LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Class 


THE   MARKET-PLACE 


"WILL  BRING  IN  OVER  FOUR   HUNDRED   THOUSAND    POUNDS,   AND  CLOSE 

THE  'CORNER'."— Page  26 8. 


THE 

MARKET  PLACE 


BY 

HAROLD    FREDERIC 

Author  of 
The  Damnation  of  Theron  Ware,"   etc. 

ILLUSTRATED    BY 

HARRISON    FISHER 


GROSSET     &     DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS     :     :     NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT,  1898  AND  1899 
BY  THE  CURTIS  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

COPYRIGHT,  1899 
BY  FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 


M37 


illustrations  in  this  volume  are  used  by  permission  oj 
the  publishers  of  the  Philadelphia  "SATURDAY  EVENING  POST." 


228619 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  battle  was  over,  and  the  victor  remained  on  the 
field — sitting  alone  with  the  hurly-burly  of  his 
thoughts. 

His  triumph  was  so  sweeping  and  comprehensive  as  to 
be  somewhat  shapeless  to  the  view.  He  had  a  sense  of 
fascinated  pain  when  he  tried  to  define  to  himself  what  its 
limits  would  probably  be.  Vistas  of  unchecked,  expand 
ing  conquest  stretched  away  in  every  direction.  He  held 
at  his  mercy  everything  within  sight.  Indeed,  it  rested 
entirely  with  him  to  say  whether  there  should  be  any 
such  thing  as  mercy  at  all — and  until  he  chose  to  utter 
the  restraining  word  the  rout  of  the  vanquished  would  go 
on  with  multiplying  terrors  and  ruin.  He  could  crush 
and  torture  and  despoil  his  enemies  until  he  was  tired. 
The  responsibility  of  having  to  decide  when  he  would 
stop  grinding  their  faces  might  come  to  weigh  upon  him 
later  on,  but  he  would  not  give  it  room  in  his  mind  to 
night. 

A  picture  of  these  faces  of  his  victims  shaped  itself  out 
of  the  flames  in  the  grate.  They  were  moulded  in  a 
family  likeness,  these  phantom  visages  :  they  were  all 
Jewish,  all  malignant,  all  distorted  with  fright.  They 


2  TKE   MARKET-PLACE 

implored  him  with  eyes  in  which  panic  asserted  itself 
above  rage  and  cunning.  Only  here  and  there  did  he  re 
call  a  name  with  which  to  label  one  of  these  countenances; 
very  few  of  them  raised  a  memory  of  individual  rancour. 
The  faces  were  those  of  men  he  had  seen,  no  doubt,  but 
their  persecution  of  him  had  been  impersonal  ;  his  great 
revenga  was  equally  so.  As  he  looked,  in  trutn,  there 
was  only  one  face — a  composite  mask  of  what  he  had 
done  battle  with,  and  overthrown,  and  would  trample  im 
placably  under  foot.  He  stared  with  a  conqueror's  cold 
frown  at  it,  and  gave  an  abrupt  laugh  which  started  harsh 
echoes  in  the  stillness  of  the  Board  Room.  Then  he  shook 
off  the  reverie,  and  got  to  his  feet.  He  shivered  a  little 
at  the  sudden  touch  of  a  chill. 

A  bottle  of  brandy,  surrounded  by  glasses,  stood  on  the 
table  where  the  two  least-considered  of  his  lieutenants, 
the  dummy  Directors,  had  left  it.  He  poured  a  small 
quantity  and  sipped  it.  During  the  whole  eventful  day  it 
had  not  occurred  to  him  before  to  drink  ;  the  taste  of  the 
neat  liquor  seemed  on  the  instant  to  calm  and  refresh  his 
brain.  With  more  deliberation,  he  took  a  cigar  from  the 
broad,  floridly-decorated  open  box  beside  the  bottle,  lit  it, 
and  blew  a  long  draught  of  smoke  thoughtfully  through 
his  nostrils.  Then  he  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
looked  again  into  the  fire,  and  sighed  a  wondering  smile. 
God  in  heaven  !  it  was  actually  true  ! 

This  man  of  forty  found  himself  fluttering  with  a  novel 
exhilaration,  which  yet  was  not  novel.  Upon  reflection, 
he  perceived  that  he  felt  as  if  he  were  a  boy  again — a  boy 
excited  by  pleasure.  It  surprised  as  much  as  it  delighted 
him  to  experience  this  frank  and  direct  joy  of  a  child.  He 
caught  the  inkling  of  an  idea  that  perhaps  his  years  were 
an  illusion.  He  had  latterly  been  thinking  of  himself  as 
middle-aged  ;  the  grey  hairs  thickening  at  his  temples 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  3 

had  vaguely  depressed  him.  Now  all  at  once  ^he  saw 
that  he  was  not  old  at  all.  The  buoyancy  of  veritable 
youth  bubbled  in  his  veins.  He  began  walking  up  and 
down  the  room,  regarding  new  halcyon  visions  with  a 
sparkling  eye.  He  was  no  longer  conscious  of  the  hated 
foe  beneath  his  feet  ;  they  trod  instead  elastic  upon  the 
clouds. 

The  sound  of  someone  moving  about  in  the  hallway 
outside,  and  of  trying  a  door  near  by,  suddenly  caught  his 
attention.  He  stood  still  and  listened  with  alertness  for  a 
surprised  instant,  then  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  began 
moving  again.  It  must  be  nearly  seven  o'clock  ;  although 
the  allotment  work  had  kept  the  clerks  later  than  usual 
that  day,  everybody  connected  with  the  offices  had  cer 
tainly  gone  home.  He  realized  that  his  nerves  had  played 
him  a  trick  in  giving  that  alarmed  momentary  start — and 
smiled  almost  tenderly  as  he  remembered  how  notable  and 
even  glorious  a  warrant  those  nerves  had  for  their  un 
settled  state.  They  would  be  all  right  after  a  night's 
real  rest.  He  would  know  how  to  sleep  now,  thank 
God! 

But  yes — there  was  somebody  outside — and  this  time 
knocking  with  assurance  at  the  right  door,  the  entrance 
to  the  outer  office.  After  a  second's  consideration,  he 
went  into  this  unlighted  outer  office,  and  called  out  through 
the  opaque  glass  an  enquiry.  The  sound  of  his  voice,  as 
it  analyzed  itself  in  his  own  ears,  seemed  unduly  peremp 
tory.  The  answer  which  came  back  brought  a  flash  of 
wonderment  to  his  eyes.  He  hurriedly  unlocked  and 
opened  the  door. 

"  I  saw  the  lights  in  what  I  made  out  to  be  the  Board 
Room,'*  said  the  newcomer,  as  he  entered.  "  I  assumed 
It  must  be  you.  Hope  I  don't  interrupt  anything." 

"  Nothing  could  have  given  me  greater  pleasure,  Lord 


4  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Plowden,"  replied  the  other,  leading  the  way  back  to  the 
inner  apartment.  "  In  fact,  I  could  n't  have  asked  any 
thing  better." 

The  tone  of  his  voice  had  a  certain  anxious  note  in  it 
not  quite  in  harmony  with  this  declaration.     He  turned, 
under  the  drop-light  overhanging  the  Board-table,  and  • 
shook  hands  with  his  guest,  as  if  to  atone  for  this  doubt 
ful  accent. 

"  I  shake  hands  with  you  again,"  he  said,  speaking 
rapidly,  "  because  this  afternoon  it  was  what  you  may 
call  formal ;  it  did  n't  count.  And — my  God  ! — you  're 
the  man  I  owe  it  all  to." 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't  go  as  far  as  that— even  in  the  ab 
sence  of  witnesses,"  replied  L,ord  Plowden,  lightly. 
"  I  '11  take  off  my  coat  for  a  few  minutes,"  he  went  on, 
very  much  at  his  ease.  "  It  's  hot  in  here.  It  's  by  the 
merest  chance  I  happened  to  be  detained  in  the  City — and 
I  saw  your  lights,  and  this  afternoon  we  had  no  oppor 
tunity  whatever  for  a  quiet  talk.  No — I  won't  drink  any 
thing  before  dinner,  but  I  '11  light  a  cigar.  I  want  to  say 
to  you,  Thorpe,"  he  concluded,  as  he  seated  himself, 
"  that  I  think  what  you  've  done  is  very  wonderful.  The 
Marquis  thinks  so  too— but  I  should  n't  like  to  swear 
that  he  understands  much  about  it." 

The  implication  that  the  speaker  did  understand  re 
mained  in  the  air  like  a  tangible  object.  Thorpe  took  a 
chair,  and  the  two  men  exchanged  a  silent,  intent  look. 
Their  faces,  dusky  red  on  the  side  of  the  glow  from  the 
fire,  pallid  where  the  electric  light  fell  slantwise  upon 
them  from  above,  had  for  a  moment  a  mysterious  some 
thing  in  common.  Then  the  tension  of  the  glance  was 
relaxed — and  on  the  instant  no  two  men  in  I«ondon  looked 
less  alike. 

I/>rd  Plowden  was  familiarly  spoken  oi  as  a  handsome 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  5 

man.  Thorpe  had  even  heard  him  called  the  handsomest 
man  in  England — though  this  seemed  in  all  likelihood  an 
exaggeration.  But  handsome  he  undoubtedly  was — tall 
without  suggesting  the  thought  of  height  to  the  observer, 
erect  yet  graceful,  powerfully  built,  while  preserving  the 
effect  of  slenderness.  His  face  in  repose  had  the  outline 
of  the  more  youthful  guardsman-type — regular,  finely-cut, 
impassive  to  hardness.  When  he  talked,  or  followed  with 
interest  the  talk  of  others,  it  revealed  almost  an  excess  of 
animation.  Then  one  noted  the  flashing  subtlety  of  his 
glance,  the  swift  facility  of  his  smile  and  comprehending 
brows,  and  saw  that  it  was  not  the  guardsman  face  at  all. 
His  skin  was  fresh-hued,  and  there  was  a  shade  of  warm 
brown  in  his  small,  well-ordered  moustasche,  but  his  hair, 
wavy  and  worn  longer  than  the  fashion,  seemed  black. 
There  were  perceptible  veins  of  grey  in  it,  though  he  had 
only  entered  his  thirty-fifth  year.  He  was  dressed  habit 
ually  with  the  utmost  possible  care. 

The  contrast  between  this  personage  and  the  older  man 
confronting  him  was  abrupt.  Thorpe  was  also  tall,  but 
of  a  burly  and  slouching  figure.  His  face,  shrouded  in  a 
high-growing,  dust-coloured  beard,  invited  no  attention. 
One  seemed  always  to  have  known  this  face — thick- 
featured,  immobile,  undistinguished.  Its  accessories  for 
the  time  being  were  even  more  than  ordinarily  unimpres 
sive.  Both  hair  and  beard  were  ragged  with  neglect. 
His  commonplace,  dark  clothes  looked  as  if  he  had  slept 
in  them.  The  hands  resting  on  his  big  knees  were  coarse 
in  shape,  and  roughened,  and  ill- kept. 

"  I  could  n't  have  asked  anything  better  than  your 
dropping  in,"  he  repeated  now,  speaking  with  a  drag,  as 
of  caution,  on  his  words.  "  Witnesses  or  no  witnesses, 
I  'm  anxious  to  have  you  understand  that  I  realize  what 
I  owe  to  you." 


6  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  I  only  wis'n  it  were  a  great  deal  more  than  it  is,"  re 
plied  the  other,  with  a  frank  smile. 

"  Oh,  it  '11  mount  up  to  considerable,  as  it  stands," 
said  Thorpe. 

He  could  hear  that  there  was  a  kind  of  reservation  in 
his  voice  ;  the  suspicion  that  his  companion  detected  it 
embarrassed  him.  He  found  himself  in  the  position  of 
fencing  with  a  man  to  whom  all  his  feelings  impelled  him 
to  be  perfectly  open.  He  paused,  and  was  awkwardly 
conscious  of  constraint  in  the  silence  which  ensued. 

'  *  You  are  very  kind  to  put  it  in  that  way, ' '  said  Lord 
Plowden,  at  last.  He  seemed  also  to  be  finding  words  for 
his  thoughts  with  a  certain  difficulty.  He  turned  his  cigar 
round  in  his  white  fingers  meditatively.  <(  I  gather  that 
your  success  has  been  complete — as  complete  as  you  your 
self  could  have  desired.  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my 
heart." 

"  No — don't  say  my  success — say  our  success,"  put  in 
Thorpe. 

*'  But,  my  dear  man,"  the  other  corrected  him,  "  my 
interest,  compared  with  yours,  is  hardly  more  than  nomi 
nal.  I  'm  a  Director,  of  course,  and  I  'm  not  displeased 
that  my  few  shares  should  be  worth  something  instead  of 
nothing,  but " 

Thorpe  lifted  one  of  his  heavy  hands.  "  That  is  n't 
my  view  of  the  thing  at  all.  To  be  frank,  I  was  turning 
over  in  my  mind,  just  awhile  ago,  before  you  came  in, 
some  way  of  arranging  all  that  on  a  different  footing.  If 
you  '11  trust  it  to  me,  I  think  you  '11  find  it  's  all  right." 

Something  in  the  form  of  this  remark  seemed  to  restore 
to  Lord  Plowden  his  accustomed  fluency  of  speech. 

' '  I  came  here  to  say  precisely  that  thing, ' '  he  began — 
"  that  I  do  trust  it  to  you.  We  have  never  had  any  very 
definite  talk  on  the  subject — and  pray  don't  think  that  I 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  7 

want  to  go  into  details  now.  I  'd  much  rather  not,  in 
fact.  But  what  I  do  want  to  say  to  you  is  this  :  I  believe 
in  you.  I  feel  sure  that  you  are  going  to  go  far,  as  the 
saying  is.  Well,  I  want  to  tie  myself  to  your  star.  Do 
you  see  what  I  mean  ?  You  are  going  to  be  a  power  in 
finance.  You  are  going  to  be  able  to  make  and  unmake 
men  as  you  choose.  I  should  be  very  much  obliged  in-  .^ 
deed  if  you  would  make  me." 

Thorpe  regarded  the  handsome  and  titled  man  of  fashion 
with  what  seemed  to  the  other  a  lethargic  gaze.  In  truth, 
his  mind  was  toiling  with  strenuous  activity  to  master,  in 
all  its  bearings,  the  significance  of  what  had  been  said. 
This  habit  of  the  abstracted  and  lack-lustre  eye,  the  while 
he  was  hard  at  work  thinking,  was  a  fortuitous  asset  which 
he  had  never  up  to  that  time  learned  that  he  possessed. 
Unconsciously,  he  dampened  the  spirits  of  his  companion. 

"  Don't  imagine  I  'm  trying  to  force  myself  upon  you," 
Lord  Plowden  said,  growing  cool  in  the  face  of  this  slow 
stare.  "  I  'm  asking  nothing  at  all.  I  had  the  impulse 
to  come  and  say  to  you  that  you  are  a  great  man,  and  that 
you  've  done  a  great  thing — and  done  it,  moreover,  in  a 
very  great  way." 

"  You  know  how  it  was  done  !  "  The  wondering  ex 
clamation  forced  itself  from  Thorpe's  unready  lips.  He 
bent  forward  a  little,  and  took  a  new  visual  hold,  as  it 
were,  of  his  companion's  countenance. 

L,ord  Plowden  smiled.  "  Did  you  think  I  was  such  a 
hopeless  duffer,  then  ?  "  he  rejoined. 

For  answer,  Thorpe  leant  back  in  his  chair,  crossed 
his  legs,  and  patted  his  knee  contentedly.  All  at  once  his 
face  had  lightened  ;  a  genial  speculation  returned  to  his 
grey  eyes. 

"  Well,  I  was  in  a  curious  position  about  you,  you  see," 
he  began  to  explain.  The  relief  with  which  he  spoke  was 


8  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

palpable-  "  I  could  not  for  the  life  of  me  make  up  my 
mind  whether  to  tell  you  about  it  or  not.  Let 's  see — this 
is  Thursday  ;  did  I  see  you  Tuesday  ?  At  any  rate,  the 
scheme  did  n't  dawn  on  me  myself  until  toward  evening 
Tuesday.  But  yesterday,  of  course,  I  could  have  told  you 
— and  again  this  afternoon — but,  as  I  say,  I  could  n't 
make  up  my  mind.  Once  I  had  it  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue 
— but  somehow  I  did  n't.  And  you — you  never  gave  me 
a  hint  that  you  saw  what  was  going  on. ' ' 

Again  Lord  Plowden  smiled.  ' '  I  voted  with  you, ' '  he 
put  in  softly. 

Thorpe  laughed,  and  relit  his  cigar.  ( '  Well,  I  could  n't 
have  asked  anything  better  than  this, ' '  he  declared  once 
again.  "  It  beats  all  the  rest  put  together,  to  my  mind." 

"  Perhaps  I  don't  quite  follow  your  meaning,"  com 
mented  the  other  tentatively. 

"  Why  man,"  Thorpe  explained,  hesitating  a  little  in 
his  choice  of  words,  but  speaking  with  evident  fervour  ;  "  I 
was  more  anxious  about  you — and  the  way  you  'd  take  it — 
than  about  anything  else.  I  give  you  my  word  I  was.  I 
could  n't  tell  at  all  how  you  'd  feel  about  the  thing.  You 
might  think  that  it  was  all  right,  and  then  again  you 
might  round  on  me — or  no,  I  don't  mean  quite  that — but 
you  might  say  it  was  n't  good  enough  for  you,  and  wash 
your  hands  of  the  whole  affair.  And  I  can't  tell  you  what 
a  relief  it  is  to  find  that  you — that  you  're  satisfied.  Now 
I  can  go  ahead." 

"  Ah,  yes — ahead,"  said  the  younger  man,  thought 
fully.  "  Do  you  mind  telling  me — you  see  I  'm  quite  in 
the  dark  as  to  details — how  much  further  ahead  we  are 
likely  to  go  ?  I  comprehend  the  general  nature  of  our 
advance — but  how  far  off  is  the  goal  you  have  in  sight  ?  " 

' '  God  knows  !  ' '  answered  Thorpe,  with  a  rising  thrill 
of  excitement  in  his  voice.  ' '  I  don't  give  it  any  limit.  I 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  9 

don't  see  why  we  should  stop  at  all.  We  've  got  them  in 
such  a  position  that — why,  good  heavens  !  we  can  squeeze 
them  to  death,  crush  them  like  quartz."  He  chuckled 
grimly  at  the  suggestion  of  his  simile.  "  We  '11  get  more 
ounces  to  the  ton  out  of  our  crushings  than  they  ever 
heard  of  on  the  Rand,  too." 

' '  Might  I  ask, ' '  interposed  the  other,  * '  who  may 
'they'  be?" 

Thorpe  hesitated,  and  knitted  his  brows  in  the  effort  to 
remember  names.  "  Oh,  there  are  a  lot  of  them,"  he 
Said,  vaguely.  ' '  I  think  I  told  you  of  the  way  that  Kaffir 
crowd  pretended  to  think  well  of  me,  and  let  me  believe 
they  were  going  to  take  me  up,  and  then,  because  I 
would  n't  give  them  everything — the  very  shirt  off  my 
back — turned  and  put  their  knife  into  me.  I  don't  know 
them  apart,  hardly — they  've  all  got  names  like  Rhine 
wines — but  I  know  the  gang  as  a  whole,  and  if  I  don't  lift 
the  roof  clean  off  their  particular  synagogue,  then  my 
name  is  mud." 

Lord  Plowden  smiled.  "  I  've  always  the  greatest  diffi 
culty  to  remember  that  you  are  an  Englishman — a  Lon 
doner  born,"  he  declared  pleasantly.  "  You  don't  talk  in 
the  least  like  one.  On  shipboard  I  made  sure  you  were 
an  American — a  very  characteristic  one,  I  thought — of 
some  curious  Western  variety,  you  know.  I  never  was 
more  surprised  in  my  life  than  when  you  told  me,  the 
other  day,  that  you  only  left  England  a  few  years  ago." 

"  Oh,  hardly  a  '  few  years  ' ;  more  like  fifteen,"  Thorpe 
corrected  him.  He  studied  his  companion's  face  with 
slow  deliberation. 

"  I  'm  going  to  say  something  that  you  must  n't  take 
amiss,"  he  remarked,  after  a  little  p.iuse.  "  If  you  'd 
known  that  I  was  an  Englishman,  when  we  first  met, 
there  on  the  steamer,  I  kind  o'  suspect  that  you  and  I  '<J 


10  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

never  have  got  much  beyond  a  nodding  acquaintance— 
and  even  that  mostly  on  my  side.  I  don't  mean  that  I 
intended  to  conceal  anything — that  is,  not  specially — but 
I  've  often  thought  since  that  it  was  a  mighty  good  thing 
I  did.  Now  is  n'  t  that  true — that  if  you  had  taken  me  for 
one  of  your  own  countrymen  you  'd  have  given  me  the 
cold  shoulder  ?  ' ' 

"  I  dare  say  there  's  a  good  deal  in  what  you  say,"  the 
other  admitted,  gently  enough,  but  without  contrition. 
"  Things  naturally  shape  themselves  that  way,  rather, 
you  know.  If  they  did  n't,  why  then  the  whole  position 
would  become  difficult.  But  you  are  an  American,  to  all 
intents  and  purposes." 

"  Oh,  no — I  never  took  any  step  towards  getting 
naturalized,"  Thorpe  protested.  "  I  always  intended  to 
come  back  here.  Or  no,  I  won't  say  that — because  most 
of  the  time  I  was  dog-poor — and  this  is  n't  the  place  for  a 
poor  man.  But  I  always  said  to  myself  that  if  ever  I 
pulled  it  off — if  I  ever  found  myself  a  rich  man — then  I  'd 
come  piking  across  the  Atlantic  as  fast  as  triple-expansion 
engines  would  carry  me." 

The  young  man  smiled  again,  with  a  whimsical  gleam 
in  his  eye.  "  And  you  are  a  rich  man,  now,"  he  ob 
served,  after  a  momentary  pause. 

"  We  are  both  rich  men,"  replied  Thorpe,  gravely. 

He  held  up  a  dissuading  hand,  as  the  other  would  have 
spoken.  "  This  is  how  it  seems  to  me  the  thing  figures 
itself  out  :  It  can't  be  said  that  your  name  on  the  Board, 
or  the  Marquis's  either,  was  of  much  use  so  far  as  the 
public  were  concerned.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  saw  some 
time  ago  that  they  would  n't  be.  Titles  on  prospectuses 
are  played  out  in  London.  I  've  rather  a  notion,  indeed, 
that  they  're  apt  to  do  more  harm  than  good — just  at 
present,  at  least.  But  all  that  aside — you  are  the  man 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  II 

who  was  civil  to  me  at  the  start,  when  you  knew  nothing 
whatever  about  my  scheme,  and  you  are  the  man  who  was 
good  to  me  later  on,  when  I  did  n't  know  where  to  turn 
for  a  friendly  word.  Very  well  ;  here  I  am  !  I  've  made 
my  coup  !  And  I  'd  be  a  sweep,  would  n't  I  ?  to  forget 
to-day  what  I  was  so  glad  to  remember  a  week  ago.  But 
you  see,  I  don't  forget  !  The  capital  of  the  Company  is 
^"500,000,  all  in  pound  shares.  We  offered  the  public  only\ 
a  fifth  of  them.  The  other  four  hundred  thousand  shares 
are  mine  as  vendor — and  I  have  ear-marked  in  my  mind 
one  hundred  thousand  of  them  to  be  yours. ' ' 

Lord  Plowden's  face  paled  at  the  significance  of  these 
words.  "  It  is  too  much — you  don't  reflect  what  it  is  you 
are  saying, ' '  he  murmured  confusedly. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  the  other  reassured  him.  "  Every 
thing  that  I  've  said  goes." 

The  peer,  trembling  a  little,  rose  to  his  feet.  * '  It  is  a 
preposterously  big  reward  for  the  merest  act  of  courtesy, ' ' 
he  insisted.  ' '  Of  course  it  takes  my  breath  away  for  joy — 
and  yet  I  feel  I  ought  n't  to  be  consenting  to  it  at  all. 
And  it  has  its  unpleasant  side — it  buries  me  under  a 
mountain  of  obligation.  I  don't  know  what  to  do  or  what 
to  say. ' ' 

"  Well,  leave  the  saying  and  doing  to  me,  then,"  re 
plied  Thorpe,  with  a  gesture  before  which  the  other  re 
sumed  his  seat.  "  Just  a  word  more — and  then  I  suppose 
we  'd  better  be  going.  Look  at  it  in  this  way.  Your 
grandfather  was  Lord  Chancellor  of  England,  and  your 
father  was  a  General  in  the  Crimea.  My  grandfather  kept 
a  small  second-hand  book-shop,  and  my  father  followed 
him  in  the  business.  In  one  sense,  that  puts  us  ten  thou 
sand  miles  apart.  But  in  another  sense,  we  '11  say  that 
we  like  each  other,  and  that  there  are  ways  in  which  we 
can  be  of  immense  use  to  each  other,  and  that  brings  us 


12  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

close  together.  You  need  money — and  here  it  is  for  you. 
I  need — what  shall  I  say  ? — a  kind  of  friendly  lead  in  the 
matter  of  establishing  myself  on  the  right  footing,  among 
the  right  people — and  that  's  what  you  can  do  for  me. 
Mind — I  'd  prefer  to  put  it  all  in  quite  another  way  ;  I  'd 
like  to  say  it  was  all  niceness  on  your  part,  all  gratitude 
on  mine.  But  if  you  want  to  consider  it  on  a  business 
basis — why  there  you  have  it  also — perfectly  plain  and 
clear." 

He  got  up  as  he  finished,  and  Lord  Plowden  rose  as 
well.  The  two  men  shook  hands  in  silence. 

When  the  latter  spoke,  it  was  to  say  :  "Do  you  know 
how  to  open  one  of  those  soda-water  bottles  ?  I  've  tried, 
but  I  can  never  get  the  trick.  I  think  I  should  like  to 
have  a  drink — after  this. ' ' 

When  they  had  put  down  their  glasses,  and  the  younger 
man  was  getting  into  his  great-coat,  Thorpe  bestowed  the 
brandy  and  cigars  within  a  cabinet  at  the  corner  oi  the 
room,  and  carefully  turned  a  key  upon  them. 

"  If  you  're  going  West,  let  me  give  you  a  lift,"  said 
Lord  Plowden,  hat  in  hand.  "  I  can  set  you  down 
wherever  you  like.  Unfortunately  I  've  to  go  out  to 
dinner,  and  I  must  race,  as  it  is,  to  get  dressed." 

Thorpe  shook  his  head.  "  No,  go  along,"  he  bade 
him.  "  I  've  some  odds  and  ends  of  things  to  do  on  the 
way. ' ' 

"  Then  when  shall  I  see  you  ?  "—began  the  other,  and 
halted  suddenly  with  a  new  thought  in  his  glance.  "  But 
what  are  you  doing  Saturday  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  brisker 
tone.  "  It  's  a  dies  non  here.  Come  down  with  me  to 
morrow  evening,  to  my  place  in  Kent.  We  will  shoot  on 
Saturday,  and  drive  about  on  Sunday,  if  you  like — and 
there  we  can  talk  at  our  leisure.  Yes,  that  is  what  you 
must  do.  I  have  a  gun  for  you.  Shall  we  say,  then — 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  13 

Charing  Cross  at  9.55  ?  Or  better  still,  say  5.15,  and  we 
will  dine  at  home. ' ' 

The  elder  man  pondered  his  answer — frowning  at  the 
problem  before  him  with  visible  anxiety.  "  I  'm  afraid 
I  'd  better  not  come — it 's  very  good  of  you  all  the  same." 

' (  Nonsense, ' '  retorted  the  other.  ' '  My  mother  will  be 
very  glad  indeed  to  see  you.  There  is  no  one  else  there 
— unless,  perhaps,  my  sister  has  some  friend  down.  We 
shall  make  a  purely  family  party." 

Thorpe  hesitated  for  only  a  further  second.  ' c  All  right. 
Charing  Cross,  5.15,"  he  said  then,  with  the  grave 
brevity  of  one  who  announces  a  momentous  decision. 

He  stood  still,  looking  into  the  fire,  for  a  few  moments 
after  his  companion  had  gone.  Then,  going  to  a  closet 
at  the  end  of  the  room,  he  brought  forth  his  coat  and  hat  ; 
something  prompted  him  to  hold  them  up,  and  scrutinize 
them  under  the  bright  light  of  the  electric  globe.  He 
put  them  on,  then,  with  a  smile,  half-scornful,  half-amused, 
playing  in  his  beard. 

The  touch  of  a  button  precipitated  darkness  upon  the 
Board  Room.  He  made  his  way  out,  and  downstairs  to 
the  street.  It  was  a  rainy,  windy  October  night,  sloppy 
underfoot,  dripping  overhead.  At  the  corner  before  him, 
a  cabman,  motionless  under  his  unshapely  covered  hat  and 
glistening  rubber  cape,  sat  perched  aloft  on  his  seat,  ap 
parently  asleep.  Thorpe  hailed  him,  with  a  peremptory 
tone,  and  gave  the  brusque  order,  *  *  Strand  !  "  as  he 
clambered  into  the  hansom. 


CHAPTER  II 

"  T    OUISA,   the  long  and  short  of  it  is  this,"  said 

I  >  Thorpe,  half  an  hour  later  :  ' '  you  never  did  be 
lieve  in  me,  as  a  sister  should  do." 

He  was  seated  alone  with  this  sister,  in  a  small,  low, 
rather  dismally-appointed  room,  half-heartedly  lighted  by 
two  flickering  gas-jets.  They  sat  somewhat  apart,  con 
fronting  a  fireplace,  where  only  the  laid  materials  for  a  fire 
disclosed  themselves  in  the  cold  grate.  Above  the  mantel 
hung  an  enlarged  photograph  of  a  scowling  old  man. 
Thorpe's  gaze  recurred  automatically  at  brief  intervals  to 
this  portrait — which  somehow  produced  the  effect  upon 
him  of  responsibility  for  the  cheerlessness  of  the  room. 
There  were  other  pictures  on  the  walls  of  which  he  was 
dimly  conscious — small,  faded,  old  prints  about  Dido  and 
^neas  and  Agamemnon,  which  seemed  to  be -coming  back 
to  him  out  of  the  mists  of  his  childhood. 

Vagrant  impressions  and  associations  of  this  childhood 
strayed  with  quaint  inconsequence  across  the  field  of  his 
preoccupied  mind.  The  peculiar  odour  of  the  ancient 
book-shop  on  the  floor  below  remained  like  snuff  in  his 
nostrils.  Somewhere  underneath,  or  in  the  wainscoting 
at  the  side,  he  could  hear  the  assiduous  gnawing  of  a  rat. 
Was  it  the  same  rat,  he  wondered  with  a  mental  grin,  that 
used  to  keep  him  awake  nights,  in  one  of  the  rooms  next 
to  this,  with  that  same  foolish  noise,  when  he  was  a  boy  ? 

11 1  know  you  always  say  that,"  replied  I/niisa,  im 
passively. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  1 5 

She  was  years  older  than  her  brother,  but,  without  a 
trace  of  artifice  or  intention,  contrived  to  look  the  younger 
of  the  two.  Her  thick  hair,  drawn  simply  from  her  tem 
ples  into  a  knot  behind,  was  of  that  palest  brown  which 
assimilates  grey.  Her  face,  long,  plain,  masculine  in  con 
tour  and  spirit,  conveyed  no  message  as  to  years.  Long 
and  spare  of  figure,  she  sat  upright  in  her  straight-backed 
chair,  with  her  large,  capable  hands  on  her  knees. 

"  I  believed  in  you  as  much  as  you  'd  let  me,"  she  went 
on,  indifferently,  almost  wearily.  "  But  I  don't  see  that 
it  mattered  to  you  whether  I  did  or  did  n't.  You  went 
your  own  way  :  you  did  what  you  wanted  to  do.  What 
had  I  to  do  with  it  ?  I  don't  suppose  I  even  knew  what 
part  of  the  world  you  were  in  more  than  once  in  two  or 
three  years.  How  should  I  know  whether  you  were  going 
to  succeed,  when  I  did  n't  even  know  what  it  was  you 
were  at  ?  Certainly  you  had  n't  succeeded  here  in  Lon 
don — but  elsewhere  you  might  or  you  might  not — how 
could  I  tell  ?  And  moreover,  I  don't  feel  that  I  know 
you  very  well  ;  you  've  grown  into  something  very  differ 
ent  from  the  boy  Joel  that  left  the  shop — it  must  be  twenty 
years  ago.  I  can  only  know  about  you  and  your  affairs 
what  you  tell  me." 

'  *  But  my  point  is, ' '  pursued  Thorpe,  watching  her  face 
with  a  curiously  intent  glance,  "  you  never  said  to  your 
self :  'I  know  he  's  going  to  succeed.  I  know  he  '11  be  a 
rich  man  before  he  dies.'  " 

She  shook  her  head  dispassionately.  Her  manner  ex 
pressed  fatigued  failure  to  comprehend  why  he  was  mak 
ing  so  much  of  this  purposeless  point. 

"  No — I  don't  remember  ever  having  said  that  to  my 
self,"  she  admitted,  listlessly.  Then  a  comment  upon  his 
words  occurred  to  her,  and  she  spoke  with  more  anima 
tion  :  "You  don't  seem  to  understand,  Joel,  that  what 


16  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

was  very  important  to  you,  did  n't  occupy  me  at  all.  You 
were  always  talking  about  getting  rich  ;  you  kept  the  idea 
before  you  of  sometime,  at  a  stroke,  finding  yourself  a 
millionaire.  That 's  been  the  idea  of  your  life.  But  what 
do  I  know  about  all  that  ?  My  work  has  been  to  keep  a 
roof  over  my  head — to  keep  the  little  business  from  dis 
appearing  altogether.  It  's  been  hard  enough,  I  can  tell 
you,  these  last  few  years,  with  the  big  jobbers  cutting  the 
hearts  out  of  the  small  traders.  I  had  the  invalid  husband 
to  support  for  between  three  and  four  years — a  dead  weight 
on  me  every  week — and  then  the  children  to  look  after,  to 
clothe  and  educate." 

At  the  last  word  she  hesitated  suddenly,  and  looked  at 
him.  "  Don't  think  I  'm  ungrateful  " — she  went  on,  with 
a  troubled  effort  at  a  smile — "  but  I  almost  wish  you  'd 
never  sent  me  that  four  hundred  pounds  at  all.  What  it 
means  is  that  they  've  had  two  years  at  schools  where  now 
I  shan't  be  able  to  keep  them  any  longer.  They  '11  be 
spoiled  for  my  kind  of  life — and  they  won't  have  a  fair 
chance  for  any  other.  I  don't  know  what  will  become  of 
them." 

The  profound  apprehension  in  the  mother's  voice  did 
not  dull  the  gleam  in  Thorpe's  eyes.  He  even  began  a 
smile  in  the  shadows  of  his  unkempt  moustache. 

"  But  when  I  sent  that  money,  for  example,  two  years 
ago,  and  over,"  he  persisted,  doggedly — "  and  I  told  you 
there  'd  be  more  where  that  came  from,  and  that  I  stood 
to  pull  off  the  great  event — even  then,  now,  you  did  n't 
believe  in  your  innermost  heart  that  I  knew  what  I  was 
talking  about,  did  you  ?  ' ' 

She  frowned  with  impatience  as  she  turned  toward  him. 
"  For  heaven's  sake,  Joel,"  she  said,  sharply — "  you  be 
come  a  bore  with  that  stupid  nonsense.  I  want  to  be 
patient  with  you — I  do  indeed  sympathize  with  you  in 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  \J 

your  misfortunes — you  know  that  well  enough — but 
you  're  very  tiresome  with  that  eternal  harping  on  what 
I  believed  and  what  I  did  n't  believe.  Now,  are  you  go 
ing  to  stop  to  supper  or  not  ? — because  if  you  are  I  must 
send  the  maid  out.  And  there  's  another  thing — would 
it  be  of  any  help  to  you  to  bring  your  things  here  from 
the  hotel  ?  You  can  have  Alfred's  room  as  well  as  not — 
till  Christmas,  at  least." 

'  *  Supposing  I  could  n'  t  get  my  luggage  out  of  the  hotel 
till  I  'd  settled  my  bill,"  suggested  Thorpe  tentatively,  in 
a  muffled  voice. 

The  practical  woman  reflected  for  an  instant.  * '  I  was 
thinking,"  she  confessed  then,  "  that  it  might  be  cheaper 
to  leave  your  things  there,  and  buy  what  little  you  want — 
I  don't  imagine,  from  what  I  've  seen,  that  your  wardrobe 
is  so  very  valuable — but  no,  I  suppose  the  bill  ought  to  be 
paid.  Perhaps  it  can  be  managed  ;  how  much  will  it 
be?" 

Thorpe  musingly  rose  to  his  feet,  and  strolled  over  to 
her  chair.  With  his  thick  hands  on  his  sister's  shoulders 
he  stooped  and  kissed  her  on  the  forehead. 

"  You  believe  in  me  now,  anyway,  eh,  lyOU  ?  "  he  said, 
as  he  straightened  himself  behind  her. 

The  unaccustomed  caress — so  different  in  character 
from  the  perfunctory  salute  with  which  he  had  greeted 
her  on  his  arrival  from  foreign  parts,  six  months  before — 
brought  a  flush  of  pleased  surprise  to  her  plain  face. 
Then  a  kind  of  bewilderment  crept  into  the  abstracted 
gaze  she  was  bending  upon  the  fireless  grate.  Some 
thing  extraordinary,  unaccountable,  was  in  the  manner 
of  her  brother.  She  recalled  that,  in  truth,  he  was  more 
than  half  a  stranger  to  her.  How  could  she  tell  what 
wild,  uncanny  second  nature  had  not  grown  up  in  him 
under  those  outlandish  tropical  skies  ?  He  had  just  told 


1 8  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

her  that  his  ruin  was  absolute — overwhelming — yet  there 
had  been  a  covert  smile  in  the  recesses  of  his  glance. 
Even  now,  she  half  felt,  half  heard,  a  chuckle  from  him, 
there  as  he  stood  behind  her  ! 

The  swift  thought  that  disaster  had  shaken  his  brain 
loomed  up  and  possessed  her.  She  flung  herself  out  of 
the  chair,  and,  wheeling,  seized  its  back  and  drew  it  be 
tween  them  as  she  faced  him.  It  was  with  a  stare  of  frank 
dismay  that  she  beheld  him  grinning  at  her. 

"  What  "—she  began,  stammering — "  What  is  the  mat 
ter,  Joel?" 

He  permitted  himself  the  luxury  of  smiling  blankly  at 
her  for  a  further  moment.  Then  he  tossed  his  head,  and 
laughed  abruptly. 

"  Sit  down,  old  girl,"  he  adjured  her.  "  Try  and  hold 
yourself  together,  now — to  hear  some  different  kind  of 
news.  I  've  been  playing  it  rather  low  down  on  you,  for 
a  fact.  Instead  of  my  being  smashed,  it  's  the  other  way 
about." 

She  continued  to  confront  him,  with  a  nervous  clasp 
upon  the  chair-back.  Her  breathing  troubled  her  as  she 
regarded  him,  and  tried  to  take  in  the  meaning  of  his 
words. 

"  Do  you  mean — you  've  been  lying  to  me  about — about 
your  Company  ?  "  she  asked,  confusedly. 

"  No — no — not  at  all,"  he  replied,  now  all  genial  hearti 
ness.  "  No — what  I  told  you  was  gospel  truth — but  I 
was  taking  a  rise  out  ot  you  all  the  same." 

He  seemed  so  unaffectedly  pleased  by  his  achievement 
in  kindly  duplicity  that  she  forced  an  awkward  smile  to 
her  lips. 

"  I  don't  understand  in  the  least,"  she  said,  striving  to 
remember  what  he  had  told  her.  "  What  you  said  was 
that  the  public  had  entirely  failed  to  come  in — that  there 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  19 

were  n't  enough  applications  for  shares  to  pay  flotation 
expenses — those  were  your  own  words.  Of  course,  I  don't 
pretend  to  understand  these  City  matters — but  it  is  the 
case,  is  n't  it,  that  if  people  don't  subscribe  for  the  shares 
of  a  new  company,  then  the  company  is  a  failure  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  may  be  said  to  be  the  case — as  a  general 
rule,"  he  nodded  at  her,  still  beaming. 

"  Well,  then — of  course — I  don't  understand,"  she 
owned. 

"  I  don't  know  as  you  '11  understand  it  much  more 
when  I  've  explained  it  to  you,"  he  said,  seating  himself, 
and  motioning  her  to  the  other  chair.  "  But  yes,  of 
course  you  will.  You  're  a  business  woman.  You  know 
what  figures  mean.  And  really  the  whole  thing  is  as 
simple  as  A  B  C.  You  remember  that  I  told  you " 

"  But  are  you  going  to  stop  to  supper?  I  must  send 
Annie  out  before  the  shops  close." 

"  Supper?  No — I  could  n't  eat  anything.  I  'm  too 
worked  up  for  that.  I  '11  get  something  at  the  hotel  be 
fore  I  go  to  bed,  if  I  feel  like  it.  But  say!  "—the  thought 
suddenly  struck  him — "  if  you  want  to  come  out  with  me, 
I  '11  blow  you  off  to  the  swaggerest  dinner  in  London. 
What  d'  ye  say  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  shall  have  some  bread  and 
cheese  and  beer  at  nine.  That  's  my  rule,  you  know.  I 
don't  like  to  break  it.  I  'm  always  queer  next  day  if  I 
do.  But  now  make  haste  and  tell  me — you  're  really  not 
broken  then  ?  You  have  really  come  out  well  ?  ' ' 

For  answer  he  rose,  and  drew  himself  to  his  full  height, 
and  spread  his  bulky  shoulders  backward.  His  grey-blue 
eyes  looked  down  upon  her  with  a  triumphant  glow. 

"Broken?"  he  echoed  her  word,  with  emphasis. 
"  My  dear  L,ouisa,  I  'm  not  the  sort  that  gets  broken.  I 
break  other  people.  Oh,  God,  how  I  shall  break  them!  " 


20  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

He  began  pacing  up  and  down  on  the  narrow  rug  before 
the  fender,  excitedly  telling  his  story  to  her.  Sometimes 
he  threw  the  words  over  his  shoulder  ;  again  he  held  her 
absorbed  gaze  with  his.  He  took  his  hands  often  from 
his  pockets,  to  illustrate  or  enforce  by  gestures  the  mean 
ing  of  his  speech — and  then  she  found  it  peculiarly  diffi 
cult  to  realize  that  he  was  her  brother. 

Much  of  the  narrative,  rambling  and  disconnected,  with 
which  he  prefaced  this  story  of  the  day,  was  vaguely 
familiar  to  her.  He  sketched  now  for  her  in  summary, 
and  with  the  sonorous  voice  of  one  deeply  impressed  with 
the  dramatic  values  of  his  declamation,  the  chronicle  of  his 
wanderings  in  strange  lands—  and  these  he  had  frequently 
told  her  about  before.  Soon  she  perceived,  however,  that 
he  was  stringing  them  together  on  a  new  thread.  One 
after  another,  these  experiences  of  his,  as  he  related  them, 
turned  upon  the  obstacles  and  fatal  pitfalls  which  treachery 
and  malice  had  put  in  his  path.  He  seemed,  by  his  ac 
count,  to  have  been  a  hundred  times  almost  within  touch 
of  the  goal.  In  China,  in  the  Dutch  Indies,  in  those  re 
moter  parts  of  Australia  which  were  a  waterless  waste 
when  he  knew  them  and  might  have  owned  them,  and 
now  were  yielding  fabulous  millions  to  fellows  who  had 
tricked  and  swindled  him — everywhere  he  had  missed  by 
just  a  hair's  breadth  the  golden  consummation.  In  the 
Western  hemisphere  the  tale  repeated  itself.  There  had 
been  times  in  the  Argentine,  in  Brazil  just  before  the  Em 
pire  fell,  in  Colorado  when  the  Silver  boom  was  on,  in 
British  Columbia  when  the  first  rumours  of  rich  ore  were 
whispered  about — many  times  when  fortune  seemed  verit 
ably  within  his  grasp.  But  someone  had  always  played 
him  false.  There  was  never  a  friendship  for  him  which 
could  withstand  the  temptation  of  profitable  treason.  , 

But  he  had  hung  dauntlessly  on.     He  had  seen  one 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  21 

concession  slipping  through  his  fingers,  only  to  strain  and 
tighten  them  for  a  clutch  at  another.  It  did  not  surprise 
his  hearer — nor  indeed  did  it  particularly  attract  her 
attention — that  there  was  nowhere  in  this  rapid  and  com 
prehensive  narrative  any  allusion  to  industry  of  the  wage- 
earning  sort.  Apparently,  he  had  done  no  work  at  all,  in 
the  bread-winner's  sense  of  the  word.  This  was  so  like 
Joel  that  it  was  taken  for  granted  in  his  sister's  mind. 
All  his  voyages  and  adventures  and  painful  enterprises 
had  been  informed  by  the  desire  of  the  buccaneer — the 
passion  to  reap  where  others  had  sown,  or,  at  the  worst, 
to  get  something  for  nothing. 

The  discursive  story  began  to  narrow  and  concentrate 
itself  when  at  last  it  reached  Mexico.  The  sister  changed 
her  position  in  her  chair,  and  crossed  her  knees  when  Te- 
huantepec  was  mentioned.  It  was  from  that  place  that 
Joel  had  sent  her  the  amazing  remittance  over  two  years 
ago.  Curiously  enough,  though,  it  was  at  this  point  in 
his  narrative  that  he  now  became  vague  as  to  details. 
There  were  concessions  of  rubber  forests  mentioned,  and 
the  barter  of  these  for  other  concessions  with  money  to 
boot,  and  varying  phases  of  la  chronic  trouble  about  where 
the  true  boundary  of  Guatemala  ran— but  she  failed  clearly 
to  understand  much  about  it  all.  His  other  schemes  and 
mishaps  she  had  followed  readily  enough.  Somehow  when 
they  came  to  Mexico,  however,  she  saw  everything  jum 
bled  and  distorted,  as  through  a  haze.  Once  or  twice  she 
interrupted  him  to  ask  questions,  but  he  seemed  to  attach 
such  slight  importance  to  her  comprehending  these  details 
that  she  forbore.  Only  one  fact  was  it  necessary  to  grasp 
about  the  Mexican  episode,  apparently.  When  he  quitted 
Tehuantepec,  to  make  his  way  straight  to  London,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  year,  he  left  behind  him  a  rubber  planta 
tion  which  he  desired  to  sell,  and  brought  with  him  be- 


22  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

tween  six  and  seven  thousand  pounds,  with  which  to  pay 
the  expenses  of  selling  it.  How  he  had  obtained  either 
the  plantation  or  the  money  did  not  seem  to  have  made 
itself  understood.  No  doubt,  as  his  manner  indicated 
when  she  ventured  her  enquiries,  it  was  quite  irrelevant 
to  the  narrative. 

In  Mexico,  his  experience  had  been  unique,  apparently, 
in  that  no  villain  had  appeared  on  the  scene  to  frustrate 
his  plans.  He  at  least  mentioned  no  one  who  had 
wronged  him  there.  When  he  came  to  London,  however, 
there  were  villains  and  to  spare.  He  moved  to  the  mantel, 
when  he  arrived  at  this  stage  of  the  story,  and  made  clear 
a  space  for  his  elbow  to  rest  among  the  little  trinkets  and 
photographs  with  which  it  was  burdened.  He  stood  still 
thereafter,  looking  down  at  her  ;  his  voice  took  on  a 
harsher  note. 

Much  of  this  story,  also,  she  knew  by  heart.  This 
strange,  bearded,  greyish-haired  brother  of  hers  had  come 
very  often  during  the  past  half-year  to  the  little  book-shop, 
and  the  widow's  home  above  it,  his  misshapen  handbag 
full  of  papers,  his  heart  full  of  rage,  hope,  grief,  ambition, 
disgust,  confidence — everything  but  despair.  It  was  true, 
it  had  never  been  quite  real  to  her.  He  was  right  in  his 
suggestion  that  she  had  never  wholly  believed  in  him.  She 
had  not  been  able  to  take  altogether  seriously  this  clumsy, 
careworn,  shabbily-dressed  man  who  talked  about  millions. 
It  was  true  that  he  had  sent  her  four  hundred  pounds  for 
the  education  of  her  son  and  daughter  ;  it  was  equally 
true  that  he  had  brought  with  him  to  London  a  sum  which 
any  of  his  ancestors,  so  far  as  she  knew  about  them,  would 
have  deemed  a  fortune,  and  which  he  treated  as  merely  so 
much  oil,  with  which  to  lubricate  the  machinery  of  his 
great  enterprise.  She  had  heard,  at  various  times,  the 
embittered  details  of  the  disappearance  of  this  money, 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  23 

little  by  little.  Nearly  a  quarter  of  it,  all  told,  had  been 
appropriated  by  a  sleek  old  braggart  of  a  company-pro 
moter,  who  had  cozened  Joel  into  the  belief  that  I^ondon 
could  be  best  approached  through  him.  When  at  last 
this  wretch  was  kicked  downstairs,  the  effect  had  been 
only  to  make  room  for  a  fresh  lot  of  bloodsuckers.  There 
were  so-called  advertising  agents,  so-called  journalists, 
so-called  ' '  men  of  influence  in  the  City," — a  swarm  of  re 
lentless  and  voracious  harpies,  who  dragged  from  him  in 
blackmail  nearly  the  half  of  what  he  had  left,  before  he 
summoned  the  courage  and  decision  to  shut  them  out. 

Worse  still,  in  some  ways,  were  the  men  into  whose 
hands  he  stumbled  next — a  group  of  City  men  concerned 
in  the  South  African  market,  who  impressed  him  very 
favourably  at  the  outset.  He  got  to  know  them  by  acci 
dent,  and  at  the  time  when  he  began  to  comprehend  the 
necessity  of  securing  influential  support  for  his  scheme. 
Everything  that  he  heard  and  could  learn  about  them 
testified  to  the  strength  of  their  position  in  the  City. 
Because  they  displayed  a  certain  amiability  of  manner 
toward  him  and  his  project,  he  allowed  himself  to  make 
sure  of  their  support.  It  grew  to  be  a  certainty  in  his 
mind  that  they  would  see  him  through.  He  spent  a  good 
deal  of  money  in  dinners  and  suppers  in  their  honour, 
after  they  had  let  him  understand  that  this  form  of  pro 
pitiation  was  not  unpleasant  to  them.  They  chaffed  him 
about  some  newspaper  paragraphs,  in  which  he  was  de 
scribed  as  the  "  Rubber  King,"  with  an  affable  assump 
tion  of  amusement,  under  which  he  believed  that  he 
detected  a  genuine  respect  for  his  abilities. 

Finally,  when  he  had  danced  attendance  upon  them  for 
the  better  part  of  two  months,  he  laid  before  them,  at  the 
coffee-and-cigars  stage  of  a  dinner  in  a  private  room  of  the 
Savoy,  the  details  of  his  proposition.  They  Were  to  form 


24  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

a  Syndicate  to  take  over  his  property,  and  place  it  upon 
the  market ;  in  consideration  of  their  finding  the  ready 
money  for  this  exploitation,  they  were  to  have  for  them 
selves  two-fifths  of  the  shares  in  the  Company  ultimately 
to  be  floated.  They  listened  to  these  details,  and  to  his 
enthusiastic  remarks  about  the  project  itself,  with  rather 
perfunctory  patience,  but  committed  themselves  that  even 
ing  to  nothing  definite.  It  took  him  nearly  a  week  there 
after  to  get  an  answer  from  any  of  them.  Then  he 
learned  that,  if  they  took  the  matter  up  at  all,  it  would  be 
upon  the  basis  of  the  Syndicate  receiving  nine-tenths  of 
the  shares. 

He  conceived  the  idea,  after  he  had  mastered  his  original 
amazement,  that  they  named  these  preposterous  terms 
merely  because  they  expected  to  be  beaten  down,  and  he 
summoned  all  his  good  nature  and  tact  for  the  task  of 
haggling  with  them.  He  misunderstood  their  first  show 
of  impatience  at  this,  and  persevered  in  the  face  of  their 
tacit  rebuffs.  Then,  one  day,  a  couple  of  them  treated 
him  with  overt  rudeness,  and  he,  astonished  out  of  his 
caution,  replied  to  them  in  kind.  Suddenly,  he  could 
hardly  tell  why  or  how,  they  were  all  enemies  of  his. 
They  closed  their  office  doors  to  him  ;  even  their  clerks 
treated  him  with  contemptuous  incivility. 

This  blow  to  his  pride  enraged  and  humiliated  him, 
curiously  enough,  as  no  other  misadventure  of  his  life 
had  done. 

Louisa  remembered  vividly  the  description  he  had  given 
to  her,  at  the  time,  of  this  affair.  She  had  hardly  under 
stood  why  it  should  disturb  him  so  profoundly  :  to  her 
mind,  these  men  had  done  nothing  so  monstrous  after  all. 
But  to  him,  their  offense  swallowed  up  all  the^  other  indig 
nities  suffered  during  the  years  of  hisflstimaelitish  wander 
ings.  A  sombre  lust  for  vengeance  upon  them  took  root 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  2$ 

in  his  very  soul.  He  hated  nobody  else  as  he  hated  them. 
How  often  she  had  heard  him  swear,  in  solemn  vibrating 
tones,  that  to  the  day  of  his  death  his  most  sacred  ambi 
tion  should  be  their  punishment,  their  abasement  in  the 
dust  and  mire  ! 

And  now,  all  at  once,  as  she  looked  up  at  him,  where 
he  leant  against  the  mantel,  these  vagabond  memories  of 
hers  took  point  and  shape.  It  was  about  these  very  men 
that  he  was  talking. 

"  And  think  of  it  !  "  he  was  saying,  impressively. 
"  It 's  magnificent  enough  for  me  to  make  this  great  hit — 
but  I  don't  count  it  as  anything  at  all  by  comparison  with 
the  fact  that  I  make  it  at  their  expense.  You  remember 
the  fellows  I  told  you  about  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly,  defer 
ring  to  the  confused  look  on  her  face. 

' '  Yes — you  make  it  out  of  them, ' '  she  repeated,  in  an 
uncertain  voice.  It  occurred  to  her  that  she  must  have 
been  almost  asleep.  ' '  But  did  I  miss  anything  ?  Have 
you  been  telling  what  it  is  that  you  have  made  ?  " 

"  No — that  you  shall  have  in  good  time.  You  don't 
seem  to  realize  it,  Louisa.  I  can  hardly  realize  it  myself. 
I  am  actually  a  very  rich  man.  I  can't  tell  how  much 
I  've  got — in  fact,  it  can  be  almost  as  much  as  I  like — 
half  a  million  pounds,  I  suppose,  at  the  start,  if  I  want  to 
make  it  that  much.  Yes — it  takes  the  breath  away, 
does  n't  it  ?  But  best  of  all — a  thousand  times  best  of  all 
— practically  every  dollar  of  it  comes  out  of  those  Kaffir 
swine — the  very  men  that  tried  to  rob  me,  and  that  have 
been  trying  to  ruin  me  ever  since.  I  tell  you  what  I 
wish,  Louise — I  wish  to  God  there  could  only  be  time 
enough,  and  I  'd  take  it  all  in  half-sovereigns — two  mil 
lions  of  them,  or  three  millions — and  just  untwist  every 
coin,  one  by  one,  out  from  among  their  heart-strings. 
Oh — but  it  '11  be  all  right  as  it  is.  It 's  enough  to  make  a 


26  THE   MARKET-PLACE 


I  man  feel  religious — to  think  how  those  thieves  are  going 
j  to  suffer." 

"Well,"  she  said,  slowly,  after  reflection,  "it  all 
rather  frightens  me." 

As  if  the  chill  in  the  air  of  the  cheerless  room  had  sud 
denly  accentuated  itself,  she  arose,  took  a  match-box  from 
the  mantel,  and,  stooping,  lit  the  fire. 

He  looked  down  at  the  tall,  black-clad  figure,  bent  in 
stiff  awkwardness  over  the  smoking  grate,  and  his  eyes 
softened.  Then  he  took  fresh  note  of  the  room — the 
faded,  threadbare  carpet,  the  sparse  old  furniture  that  had 
seemed  ugly  to  even  his  uninformed  boyish  taste,  the 
dingy  walls  and  begrimed  low  ceiling — all  pathetic  sym 
-  bols  of  the  bleak  life  to  which  she  had  been  condemned. 

"  Frightens  you  ?  "  he  queried,  with  a  kind  of  jovial 
tenderness,  as  she  got  to  her  feet ;  "  frightens  you,  eh  ? 
Why,  within  a  month's  time,  old  lady,  you  '11  be  riding 
in  the  Park  in  your  own  carriage,  with  niggers  folding 
their  arms  up  behind,  and  you  '11  be  taking  it  all  as  easy 
and  as  natural  as  if  you  'd  been  born  in  a  barouche." 

He  added,  in  response  to  the  enquiry  of  her  lifted 
brows:  "  Barouche?  That  's  what  we  'd  call  in  Eng 
land  a  landau." 

She  stood  with  a  foot  upon  the  fender,  her  tired,  passive 
face  inclined  meditatively,  her  rusty  old  black  gown  drawn 
back  by  one  hand  from  the  snapping  sparks.  "  No,"  she 
said,  slowly,  joyless  resignation  mingling  with  pride  in 
her  voice.  "  I  was  born  here  over  the  shop." 

"  Well,  good  God  !  so  was  I,"  he  commented,  lustily. 
"  But  that 's  no  reason  why  I  should  n't  wind  up  in  Park 
L,ane — or  you  either." 

She  had  nothing  to  say  to  this,  apparently.  After  a 
little,  she  seated  herself  again,  drawing  her  chair  closer  to 
the  hearth.  "  It  's  years  since  I  've  lit  this  fire  before 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  2? 

the  first  of  November,"  she  remarked,  with  the  air  of 
defending  the  action  to  herself. 

"  Oh,  we  're  celebrating,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  hands 
over  the  reluctant  blaze.  "  Everything  goes,  tonight  !  " 

Her  face,  as  she  looked  up  at  him,  betrayed  the  bewilder 
ment  of  her  mind.  "  You  set  out  to  tell  me  what  it  was 
all  about,"  she  reminded  him.  "  You  see  I  'm  com 
pletely  in  the  dark.  I  only  hear  you  say  that  you  've 
made  a  great  fortune.  That  's  all  I  know.  Or  perhaps 
you  've  told  me  as  much  as  you  care  to." 

:<  Why,  not  at  all,"  he  reassured  her,  pulling  his  own 
chair  toward  him  with  his  foot,  and  sprawling  into  it  with 
a  grunt  of  relief.  '  *  If  you  '11  draw  me  a  glass  of  that  beer 
of  yours,  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it.  It  's  not  a  thing  for 
everybody  to  know,  not  to  be  breathed  to  a  human  being, 
for  that  matter — but  you  '11  enjoy  it,  and  it  '11  be  safe 
enough  with  you. ' ' 

As  she  rose,  and  moved  toward  a  door,  he  called  merrily 
after  her  : 

"  No  more  beer  when  that  keg  runs  dry,  you  know. 
Nothing  but  champagne  !  " 


CHAPTER  III 

THORPE  took  a  long,  thoughtful  pull  at  the  beer  his 
sister  brought  him. 

"  Ah,  I  did  n't  know  I  was  so  thirsty,"  he  said,  when 
he  put  the  glass  down.  ' l  Truth  is — I '  ve  lost  track  of  my 
self  altogether  since — since  the  big  thing  happened.  I 
seem  to  be  somebody  else — a  comparative  stranger,  so  to 
speak.  I  've  got  to  get  acquainted  with  myself,  all  over 
again.  You  can't  imagine  what  an  extraordinary  feeling 
it  is — this  being  hit  every  few  minutes  with  the  recollec 
tion  that  you  're  worth  half  a  million.  It  's  like  being 
struck  over  the  head.  It  knocks  you  down.  There  are 
such  thousands  of  things  to  do — you  dance  about,  all  of  a 
flutter.  You  don't  know  where  to  begin." 

"  Begin  where  you  left  off,"  suggested  Louisa.  "  You 
were  going  to  tell  me  how — how  '  the  big  thing '  hap 
pened.  You  're  always  coming  to  it — and  never  getting 
any  further. ' ' 

Nodding  comprehension  of  the  rebuke's  justification, 
he  plunged  forthwith  into  the  tale. 

"  You  remember  my  telling  you  at  the  time  how  I  got 
my  Board  together.  I  'm  speaking  now  of  the  present 
Company — after  I  'd  decided  to  be  my  own  promoter,  and 
have  at  least  some  kind  of  '  a  look-in  *  for  my  money. 
There  was  n'  t  much  money  left,  by  the  way  ;  it  was  con 
siderably  under  three  thousand.  But  I  come  to  that  later. 
First  there  was  the  Board.  Here  was  where  that  Lord 
Plowden  that  I  told  you  about — the  man  that  came  over 

28 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  29 

on  the  ship  with  me — came  in.  I  went  to  him.  I— God! 
I  was  desperate — but  I  had  n't  much  of  an  idea  he  'd  con 
sent.  But  he  did  !  He  listened  to  me,  and  I  told  him 
how  I  'd  been  robbed,  and  how  the  Syndicate  would  have 
cut  my  throat  if  I  had  n't  pulled  away, — and  he  said, 
1  Why,  yes,  I  '11  go  on  your  Board.'  Then  I  told  him 
more  about  it,  and  presently  he  said  he  'd  get  me  another 
man  of  title — a  sky-scraper  of  a  title  too — to  be  my  Chair 
man.  That  's  the  Marquis  of  Chaldon,  a  tremendous 
diplomatic  swell,  you  know,  Ambassador  at  Vienna  in  his 
time,  and  Lord  Lieutenant  and  all  sorts  of  things,  but 
willing  to  gather  in  his  five  hundred  a  year,  all  the  same. ' ' 

' '  Do  you  mean  that  you  pay  him  five  hundred  pounds  a 
year  ? ' '  asked  the  sister. 

"  Yes,  I  've  got  a  live  Markiss  who  works  for  me  at  ten 
quid  a  week,  and  a  few  extras.  The  other  Directors  get 
three  hundred.  This  Lord  Plowden  is  one  of  them — but 
I  '11  tell  you  more  about  him  later  on.  Then  there  's 
Watkin,  he  's  a  small  accountant  Finsbury  way  ;  and 
Davidson,  he  's  a  wine-merchant  who  used  to  belong  to  a 
big  firm  in  Dundee,  but  gets  along  the  best  way  he  can 
on  a  very  dicky  business  here  in  London,  now.  And  then 
there  's  General  Kervick,  awfully  well-connected  old 
chap,  they  say,  but  I  guess  he  needs  all  he  can  get.  He 's 
started  wearing  his  fur-coat  already.  Well,  that  's  my 
Board.  I  could  n't  join  it,  of  course,  till  after  allotment — 
that  's  because  I  'm  the  vendor,  as  they  call  it — but  that 
has  n't  interfered  at  all  with  my  running  the  whole  show. 
The  Board  does  n't  really  count,  you  know.  It  only 
does  what  I  want  it  to  do.  It 's  just  a  form  that  costs  me 
seventeen  hundred  a  year,  that  's  all." 

11  Seventeen  hundred  a  year,"  she  repeated,  mechani 
cally. 

' '  Well,  then  we  got  out  the  prospectus,  d'  ye  see.     Or 


30  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

first,  there  were  other  things  to  be  done.  I  saw  that  a 
good  broker's  name  counted  for  a  lot  on  a  prospectus.  I 
picked  out  one  that  I  'd  heard  was  reasonable — it  'd  been 
a  splendid  name  if  I  could  have  got  it — but  he  calmly  said 
his  price  was  two  thousand  pounds,  all  cash  down — and  I 
came  away.  Finally  I  got  a  fellow  who  had  n't  done 
much  of  anything  yet,  and  so  was  n't  so  stiff  about  his 
figure.  He  agreed  to  take  ^"500  cash,  and  2,000  in 
shares.  It  was  God's  luck  that  I  hit  on  him,  for  he 
turned  out,  at  the  pinch,  to  be  the  one  man  in  a  million 
for  me.  But  I  '11  tell  you  about  him  later.  He  's  the 
Broker,  mind  ;  you  must  n't  forget  him.  Well,  then,  he 
and  I  got  a  Solicitor — he  took  ^200  cash,  but  he  had  to 
have  2,000  shares  —  and  the  firm  of  Auditors  —  they 
were  ^100  cash  and  1,000  shares.  Every  company  has  to 
have  these  people  pasted  on  to  it,  by  law.  Oh  yes,  and 
then  you  must  have  your  Bankers.  You  don't  pay  them 
anything,  though,  thank  God !  Well,  then,  there  was  the 
machinery  complete,  all  ready  to  start.  I  took  a  hand 
some  set  of  offices,  and  furnished  them  up  to  the  nines — 
but  that  I  was  able  to  do  pretty  well  on  credit.  You 
see,  ready  money  was  getting  short. 

"  And  now  came  the  biggest  pull  of  all.  There  was  the 
press  to  be  worked. ' ' 

He  spoke  as  if  there  were  no  other  papers  in  I/nidon 
but  the  financial  journals. 

' '  I  didn'  t  sleep  much  while  that  was  being  fixed  up. 
You've  got  no  more  idea  of  what  the  press  means,  Louisa, 
than  you  have  of — of  a  coil  of  snakes  thawing  out  hungry 
in  the  spring.  Why,  if  one  blackmailer  came  to  me,  I 
swear  a  hundred  did.  They  scared  the  life  out  of  me,  the 
first  month  or  so.  And  then  there's  a  swarm  of  adver 
tising  agents,  who  say  they  can  keep  these  blackmailers 
off,  if  you  '11  make  it  worth  their  while.  But  they  all 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  31 

wanted  too  much  money  for  me — and  for  a  while  I  was  at 
my  wits'  ends.  At  last  I  got  a  fellow — he  's  not  behaved 
so  badly,  all  things  considered — who  had  some  sporting 
blood  in  his  veins,  and  he  was  willing  to  do  the  whole 
thing  for  ,£5,000,  if  I  could  pay  ,£1,500  down,  and  the 
rest  in  shares.  But  thai  was  just  what  I  could  n't  do, 
you  see,  so  finally  he  took  ,£1,000  down  and  5,000  in 
shares — and  as  I  say  he  's  done  it  tolerably  well.  There 
was  one  editor  that  I  had  to  square  personally — that  is 
to  say,  .£100  cash — it  had  to  be  in  sovereigns,  for  notes 
could  be  traced — and  a  call  of  2,000  shares  at  par, — 
he  's  the  boss  pirate  that  everybody  has  to  square — and 
of  course  there  were  odd  ten-pound  notes  here  and  there, 
but  as  a  rule  I  just  opened  the  door  and  fired  the  black 
mailers  out.  The  moment  a  fellow  came  in,  and  handed 
me  his  card,  and  said  he  had  proofs  of  two  kinds  of  articles 
in  his  pocket,  one  praising  me,  one  damning  me,  I  told 
him  to  go  and  see  my  advertising  agent,  and  if  he 
would  n't  do  that,  then  to  go  to  hell.  That  's  the  way 
you  '  ve  got  to  talk  in  the  City, ' '  he  added,  as  if  in  apolo 
getic  explanation. 

IvOuisa  looked  impassively  at  her  brother.  "  Oh,  I  've 
heard  the  expression  as  far  west  as  the  Strand, ' '  she  re 
marked. 

"  Well,  then  came  the  issue.  That  was  last  Saturday. 
You  saw  the  prospectus  in  Saturday  morning's  papers, 
and  in  the  weeklies.  The  list  was  to  be  kept  open,  it 
said,  till  Wednesday  morning — that  was  yesterday.  That 
is  to  say,  during  all  that  time,  people  could  apply  for 
shares. ' ' 

'  Which  they  did  ri't  do — according  to  your  account," 
the  sister  suggested,  dryly. 

Thorpe  passed  his  fingers  through  his  roughened  hair, 
and  eyed  her  with  a  momentary  quizzical  gleam  in  his 


32  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

eye.  Then  he  became  serious  again.  The  recollection 
of  what  he  was  now  to  narrate  brought  a  frown  to  his 
brows. 

"  On  Tuesday  afternoon,"  he  began,  with  portentous 
deliberation — "  Or  no,  first  I  must  explain  something. 
•  You  see,  in  bringing  out  a  company,  you  can't  put  up  too 
stout  a  bluff.  I  mean,  you  've  got  to  behave  as  if  you 
were  rolling  in  wealth — as  if  everything  was  coming  your 
way,  and  fortunes  were  to  be  made  by  fastening  to  you. 
I  don't  know  that  it  often  fools  anybody  very  much,  but 
it  's  part  of  the  game,  and  you  must  play  it.  Well,  ac 
cordingly,  my  Broker  goes  on  'change  Saturday  morning, 
and  has  his  jobber  shout  out  that  he  '11  buy  '  Rubber 
Consols  ' — that 's  what  our  shares  are  called  on  the  street 
— at  an  eighth  premium  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  offered  to  buy 
for  twenty-two-and-six  what  we  were  offering  to  the  public 
for  twenty  shillings.  Of  course,  you  see,  the  object  of 
that  was  to  create  the  impression  that  there  was  a  regular 
God-almighty  rush  for  our  shares.  As  I  say,  I  don't 
know  whether  that  ever  fooled  anybody — but  at  least  there 
was  the  chance  that  it  might  start  up  some  dealing  in  the 
shares — and  all  those  things  help.  Besides,  you  got  the 
sales  noticed  in  the  papers,  and  that  might  start  up  appli 
cations  from  the  public.  Well,  the  Broker  bought  1,000 
shares  this  way  on  Saturday.  On  Monday,  when  it  might 
still  be  possible  to  change  the  luck,  he  bought  3,500 
more,  still  at  that  premium  of  an  eighth.  He  bought 
some  Tuesday  morning  too — say  4,000.  Well,  now,  keep 
those  figures  in  your  head,  and  keep  an  eye  on  the  Broker. 
He  's  worth  watching — as  you  '11  see." 

"  What  's  his  name  ?  "  asked  the  sister,  with  an  acces 
sion  of  alertness  in  her  face.  "  You  call  him  '  Broker* — 
and  that  does  n't  mean  anything  to  me.  They  're  all 
brokers,  are  n't  they  ?  " 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  33 

"  Semple — Colin  Semple,  that  's  his  name.  He  's  a 
young  Scotchman — father  's  a  Presbyterian  minister. 
He  's  a  little,  insignificant  runt  of  a  chap  to  look  at — 
but  I  learned  a  long  time  ago  not  to  judge  a  singed  cat 
by  his  looks.  However — where  was  I  ?  " 

"  You  were  going  to  tell  about  Tuesday  afternoon, 
were  n't  you  ?  " 

He  nodded  gravely,  and  straightened  himself,  drawing 
a  long  breath  in  preparation  for  the  dramatic  recital  before 
him.  "  On  Tuesday  afternoon,"  he  began  again,  with 
impressive  slowness,  "  I  was  walking  on  Throgmorton 
Street,  about  four  o'clock.  It  was  raining  a  little — it 
had  been  raining  on  and  off  all  day — a  miserable,  rotten 
sort  of  a  day,  with  greasy  mud  everywhere,  and  every 
body  poking  umbrellas  into  you.  I  was  out  walking  be 
cause  I  'd  'a'  cut  my  throat  if  I  'd  tried  to  stay  in  the 
office  another  ten  minutes.  All  that  day  I  had  n't  eaten 
anything.  I  had  n't  slept  worth  speaking  of  for  three 
nights.  The  whole  game  was  up  for  me.  I  was  worse 
than  ruined.  I  had  half  a  crown  in  my  pocket.  I  had 
ten  or  twelve  pounds  in  the  bank — and  they  would  n't  let 
me  overdraw  a  farthing.  I  tell  you,  I  was  just  plumb 
busted. 

"There  came  along  in  the  gutter  a  sandwich-man. 
I  'd  seen  the  cuss  before  during  the  day,  walking  up  and 
down  near  my  offices.  I  took  notice  of  him,  because  he 
was  the  raggedest,  dirtiest,  most  forlorn-looking  cripple 
you  ever  saw  in  your  life.  Now  I  read  what  was  on  his 
boards.  It  was  the  bill  of  a  paper  that  I  had  refused  to 
be  bled  by,  and  there  it  was  in  big  letters  :  '  The  Rubber 
Bubble  Burst  !  '  '  Thorpe's  Audacity  Punished  !  '  Those 
were  the  words.  I  can  see  them  with  my  eyes  shut.  I 
stood  there,  looking  at  the  fellow,  and  I  suppose  there 
was  something  in  the  way  I  looked,  for  he  stopped  too. 


34  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Of  course,  he  did  n't  know  me  from  Adam,  but  all  the 
same,  I  'm  damned  if  he  did  n't  wink  his  eye  at  me — as 
if  we  two  had  a  joke  between  us.  And  at  that  I  burst 
out  laughing — I  simply  roared  with  laughter,  like  a  boy 
at  a  pantomime — and  I  took  that  last  half-crown  out  of  my 
pocket,  and  I  gave  it  to  the  sandwich-man.  God  !  you 
should  have  seen  his  face." 

"  I  don't  particularly  mind,  Joel,"  said  his  sister,  "  but 
I  never  heard  you  swear  so  much  before." 

"  Oh,  what  the— what  the  deuce  !  "  he  protested,  im 
patiently.  "  Don't  interrupt  me  now  !  Well,  I  went  on 
down  the  street.  The  members  of  the  Stock  Exchange 
were  coming  out  of  '  the  house,'  and  making  up  little 
groups  on  the  pavement.  They  do  business  inside,  you 
know,  until  closing  time — this  day  it  happened  to  be  four 
o'clock — and  then  they  come  out  and  deal  in  the  street 
with  one  another,  with  the  kerb-stone  mob,  who  are  not 
allowed  inside,  standing  round  to  watch  the  thing.  I 
came  along  into  the  thick  of  these  fellows  ;  they  were 
yelling  out  all  sorts  of  things — '  East  Rands,'  '  Oroyas,' 
*  Lake  View  Centrals,'  and  what  not,  but  these  went  in 
one  ear  and  out  the  other.  If  there  ever  was  a  man  with 
no  stomach  for  the  market  it  was  me.  But  then  someone 
roared  out  : 

"  '  At  seven-eighths,  sell  Rubber  Consols  !  Sell  five 
hundred  Rubber  at  seven-eighths  !  Sell  five  hundred  at 
three-quarters  !  At  three-quarters  you  have  'em  !  Rub 
ber  Consols  !  Sell  a  thou.  at  three-quarters  ! ' 

;<  This  thing  went  into  my  brain  like  a  live  coal.  I 
stopped  and  looked  up  at  the  fellow — and  by  God,  it  was 
one  of  the  men  I  've  been  talking  about — one  of  those 
Kaffir  scoundrels.  I  wish  I  was  better  at  remembering 
names — but  I  knew  his  face.  There  were  some  of  the 
others  around  him,  and  they  laughed  at  me,  and  he 


"\  MADE  A  JUMP  AND   RAN  TO  MEET  SEMPLE."— Page  JJ. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  35 

/aughed  at  me.  Oh,  they  had  a  heap  of  fun  out  of  me — 
for  a  minute  or  two.  Pretty  good  fun,  too  !  I  guess 
they  '11  remember  it  quite  a  while." 

' '  Go  on !  "  L/ouisa  adj  ured  him.  The  obvious  proximity 
of  the  dramatic  climax  drew  her  forward  in  her  chair,  and 
brought  a  glow  of  expectation  to  her  eyes. 

"  I  got  myself  away  from  that  crowd  somehow — I  think 
I  was  afraid  if  I  stayed  I  'd  strangle  the  one  who  was 
shouting  on  the  steps — and  I  went  toward  my  office.  But 
when  I  got  to  the  door,  I  did  n't  have  the  courage  to  go 
in.  I  'd  furnished  it  better,  I  suppose,  than  any  other 
office  in  Austin  Friars,  and  I  had  a  kind  of  feeling  that 
the  sight  of  those  carpets,  and  oak-tables  and  desks,  and 
brass-railings  and  so  on  would  make  me  sick.  I  owed 
for  'em  all,  bear  in  mind " 

"  But — Joel,"  the  sister  interposed.  "  One  thing  I  don't 
understand.  How  many  people  had  applied  for  shares  ? 
You  have  n't  mentioned  that." 

A  fleeting  smile  lighted  up  the  saturnine  gloom  of  his 
present  mood.  "  It  was  hardly  worth  mentioning,"  he 
answered,  with  bitter  mirth.  "  Between  five  and  six 
thousand  shares  were  subscribed,  all  told.  I  think  the 
withdrawals  by  telegraph  brought  it  down  to  practically 
five  thousand.  We  offered  a  hundred  thousand,  you 
know. — But  let  me  go  on  with  my  story.  I  stood  there, 
in  front  of  our  street-door,  in  a  kind  of  trance.  The 
words  of  that  Jew  — '  Sell  Rubber  Consols  at  three- 
quarters  ! ' — buzzed  inside  my  head  as  if  they  would  burst 
it  open.  I  turned — and  I  happened  to  see  my  Broker — the 
Scotchman,  Semple,  you  know — coming  along  toward  me. 
Right  at  that  minute,  like  a  flash,  something  dawned  on 
me.  In  less  than  a  second,  I  saw  the  whole  damned  rotten 
outfit  turned  upside  down,  with  me  on  top.  I  made  a 
jump,  and  ran  to  meet  Semple. 


36  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  '  How  many  shares  of  ours  have  you  bought  ?  '  I 
asked  him,  with  a  grip  tight  on  his  arm. 

"  The  little  chap  was  looking  mighty  sick.  He  figured 
up  in  his  mind.  *  I  'm  afraid  it  's  eight  thousand  five 
hundred,  all  told,'  he  said,  in  a  sort  of  Presbyterian 
whimper. 

'  *  '  Well — how  would  these  gentlemen  go  about  it  to  de 
liver  their  goods — that  is,  supposing  we  got  a  settle 
ment  ?  ' 

"  I  asked  him  this,  and  kept  my  eye  on  his  face.  He 
looked  puzzled  for  a  minute.  Then  he  put  out  his  lip. 
Then  he  shot  me  a  glance  as  sharp  as  a  razor,  and  we 
looked  into  one  another's  eyes. 

"'They  were  shouting  them  out  to  me  at  three- 
quarters,  a  minute  ago,'  I  told  him. 

"  He  was  onto  the  game  like  lightning.  '  Wait  for  me 
in  the  office,'  he  whispered.  *  We  '11  go  nap  on  this  !  ' 

"  With  that  he  was  off  like  a  streak.  He  stopped  run 
ning  just  before  he  got  to  the  corner,  though,  and  began 
walking  slowly,  sauntering  along,  you  know,  as  if  his 
mind  was  on  nothing  but  second-hand  books.  I  watched 
him  out  of  sight — and  then  I  went  back,  and  up  to  the 
offices.  The  furniture  did  n't  scare  me  a  bit  this  time. 
Why,  I  stopped  and  felt  of  the  brass-railing  just  outside 
the  Board  Room,  and  I  said  to  myself — '  Pshaw  !  We 
could  have  you  of  solid  gold,  if  we  wanted  to.'  ' 

He  paused  here,  and  regarded  his  sister  with  what  she 
felt  was  intended  to  be  a  significant  look.  She  shrank 
from  the  confession  that  its  meaning  was  Greek  to  her. 
:<  Well — and  what  next  ?  "  she  asked,  guardedly. 

"  Semple  came  back  in  twenty  minutes  or  so — and  the 
next  morning  he  was  at  it  again — and  what  with  him  and 
his  jobber,  by  George,  on  the  quiet,  they  picked  up  nearly 
eighteen  thousand  of  our  shares.  Some  they  paid  fifteen 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  37 

^hillings  for,  some  they  got  at  twelve- and-six  and  even 
ten.  That  does  n't  matter  ;  it  's  of  no  more  importance 
than  the  coppers  you  give  to  crossing-sweepers.  The 
thing  was  to  get  the  shares — and  by  God  we  've  got  them  ! 
Twenty-six  thousand  two  hundred  shares,  that  's  what 
we  've  got.  Now,  do  you  see  what  that  means  ?  " 

"  Why  yes,"  she  answered,  with  a  faint-hearted  as 
sumption  of  confidence.  "  Of  course,  you  know  the 
property  is  so  good  that  you  '11  make  a  profit  on  the 
shares  you  've  bought  far  below  their  value.  But  I  don't 
think  I  quite  see " 

He  interrupted  her  with  an  outburst  of  loud  laughter. 
"  Don't  think  you  quite  see  ?  "  he  gurgled  at  her,  with 
tears  of  pleasure  in  his  eye.  "  Why,  you  dummy,  you 
have  n't  got  the  faintest  glimmer  of  a  notion  of  what  it  's 
all  about.  The  value  of  the  property  's  got  nothing  in 
the  world  to  do  with  it.  That  's  neither  here  nor  there. 
If  there  was  n't  any  such  property  in  existence,  it  would 
be  just  the  same." 

He  had  compassion  upon  her  blank  countenance,  at  this, 
and  explained  more  gently  :  "  Why,  don't  you  see,  Lou, 
it  's  this  way.  This  is  what  has  happened.  We  've  got 
what  's  called  a  corner  on  the  bears.  They  're  caught 
short,  and  we  can  squeeze  them  to  our  hearts'  content. 
What — you  don't  understand  now?  Why,  see  here! 
These  fellows  who  've  sold  twenty-six  thousand  of  our 
shares — they  have  n't  got  them  to  sell,  and  they  can't  get 
them.  That  is  the  point — they  can't  get  them  for  love 
nor  money — they  must  pay  me  my  own  price  for  them,  or 
be  ruined  men.  The  moment  they  realize  the  situation, 
they  will  begin  offering  a  premium  for  Rubber  Consols. 
The  price  of  a  one-pound  share  will  be  two  pounds,  then 
four — six — ten — twenty — thirty — whatever  I  want  to  drive 
it  to." 


38  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Louisa  stared  up  at  him  with  wide  open  eyes.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  she  understood  now.  It  was  very  exciting. 

"  You  see,"  he  went  on,  taking  approving  note  of  the 
new  light  of  comprehension  in  her  glance,  ' '  we  did  some 
thing  that  Tuesday  afternoon  beside  buy  up  these  shares. 
Semple  rushed  off  to  his  office,  and  he  and  his  clerks  got 
up  a  lot  of  dummy  applications  for  shares,  made  out  in  all 
the  different  names  they  could  be  safe  in  using,  and  they 
put  these  into  the  bank  with  the  application  money — 
Semple  found  that — and  next  day  he  went  and  saw  the 
advertising  agent  and  the  solicitor  and  the  auditors — and 
got  them  to  pool  the  shares  that  I  've  promised  to  give 
them.  A  pool  ?  That  means  they  agree  to  transfer  their 
shares  to  me  as  trustee,  and  let  me  deal  with  them  as  I 
like — of  course  to  their  advantage.  In  any  case,  their 
shares  are  vendor's  shares,  and  could  n't  be  dealt  with  in 
this  transaction.  So  you  see  the  thing  is  hermetically 
sealed.  Nobody  can  get  a  share  except  from  me,  and  at 
my  price.  But  these  fellows  that  have  sold  them — they '  ve 
got  to  have  them,  don't  you  see.  They  had  their  little 
temporary  joke  with  me  on  the  street  that  afternoon — and 

I  now  they  must  walk  up  to  the  captain's  office  and  settle. 

I  They  've  got  to  pay  me  at  least  half  a  million  pounds  for 

I  that  few  minutes'  fun  of  theirs.     I  may  make  it  a  good 

|  deal  more  ;  I  don't  know  yet." 

"  Oh,  Joel  !  "  she  groaned  at  him,  in  awed  stupefac 
tion.  His  rather  languid  indecision  as  to  whether  half  a 
million  was  going  to  be  enough,  impressed  her  more 
powerfully  than  had  any  detail  of  his  narrative. 

In  a  few  comprehensive  sentences  he  finished  up  for  her 
what  there  was  to  tell.  "  This  afternoon  my  Board  met 
to  allot  the  shares.  They  saw  the  applications,  amount 
ing  in  all  to  over  ninety  thousand  shares.  It  took  their 
breath  away — they  had  heard  that  things  were  going  quite 


THE  MARKET-PLACE  39 

the  other  way  with  us.  They  were  so  tickled  that  they 
asked  no  questions.  The  allotment  went  through  like 
a  greased  pig.  About  5,000  shares  went  Lo  those  who 
had  actually  applied  for  them,  and  88,000  were  solemnly 
given  to  tlie  dummy  applicants.  Of  course,  there  was  n't 
a  whisper  about  these  dummies.  Nobody  winked  so 
much  as  an  eyelash.  But  I  've  found  since  that  one  of 
the  Directors — that  Lord  Plowden  I  told  you  about — was 
onto  the  thing  all  the  while.  But  he 's  all  right.  Every 
body  's  all  right.  Of  course  the  dummies'  shares  still  stand 
in  their  names — on  paper — but  in  reality  I  've  got  them 
all  in  my  safe — in  my  pocket  you  might  say.  They 
are  really  mine,  you  understand.  So  now  there  's  noth 
ing  for  us  to  do  but  to  apply  to  the  Stock  Exchange  for  a 
special  settlement  date,  and  meanwhile  lie  quiet  and 
watch  the  Jews  stew  in  their  own  juice.  Or  fry  in  their 
own  fat,  eh  ?  That  's  better." 

' '  But, ' '  she  commented  slowly,  ' '  you  say  there  are  no 
shares  to  be  bought — and  yet  as  I  understand  it,  there  are 
those  five  thousand  that  were  sent  out  to  the  people  who 
really  applied." 

"  Bravo,  Lou  !  "  he  answered  her  jovially.  "  You 
actually  do  understand  the  thing.  You  've  put  your 
finger  straight  on  the  point.  It  is  true  that  those  shares 
are  out  against  us — or  might  be  turned  against  us  if  they 
could  be  bought  up.  But  in  reality,  they  don't  count  at 
all.  In  the  first  place,  you  see,  they  're  scattered  about 
among  small  holders,  country  clergymen  and  old  maids 
on  an  annuity  and  so  on — all  over  the  country.  Even  if 
these  people  were  al)  traced,  and  hunted  up,  suppose  it 
was  worth  the  trouble  and  expense,  they  would  n't  sell. 
The  bigger  the  price  they  were  offered,  the  more  mulish 
they  would  be  about  holding.  That  's  always  the  way 
with  them.  But  eveia  if  they  did  all  sell,  their  five  thou- 


4O  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

sand  would  be  a  mere  drop  in  the  bucket.  There  would 
be  over  twenty  thousand  others  to  be  accounted  for.  That 
would  be  quite  enough  for  my  purposes.  Oh,  I  figured  all 
that  out  very  carefully.  My  own  first  notion  was  to  have 
the  dummies  apply  for  the  whole  hundred  thousand,  and 
even  a  little  over.  Then,  you  see,  we  might  have  allotted 
everything  to  the  dummies,  and  sent  back  the  money  and 
applications  of  the  genuine  ones.  But  that  would  have 
been  rather  hard  to  manage  with  the  Board.  The  Markiss 
would  have  said  that  the  returns  ought  to  be  made  pro 
rata — that  is,  giving  everybody  a  part  of  what  they  ap 
plied  for — and  that  would  have  mixed  everything  up. 
And  then,  too,  if  anybody  suspected  anything,  why  the 
Stock  Exchange  Committee  would  refuse  us  a  special 
settlement — and,  of  course,  without  that  the  whole  trans 
action  is  moonshine.  It  was  far  too  risky,  and  we  did  n't 
send  back  a  penny." 

"  It  's  all  pretty  risky,  I  should  think,"  she  declared 
as  she  rose.  "  I  should  think  you  'd  lie  awake  more  than 
ever  now — now  that  you  've  built  your  hopes  so  high  and 
it  'd  be  so  awful  to  have  them  come  to  nothing." 

He  smilingly  shook  his  head.  <c  No,  it  can  no  more 
fail  than  that  gas  can  fail  to  burn  when  you  put  a  light  to 
it.  It  's  all  absolute.  My  half-million  is  as  right  as  if  it 
were  lying  to  my  credit  in  the  Bank  of  England.  Oh, 
that  reminds  me,"  he  went  on  in  a  slightly  altered  tone — 
"  it 's  damned  comical,  but  I  've  got  to  ask  you  for  a  little 
money.  I  've  only  got  about  seven  pounds  at  my  bank, 
and  just  at  the  minute  it  would  give  me  away  fearfully  to 
let  Semple  know  I  was  hard  up.  Of  course  he  'd  let  me 
have  anything  I  wanted — but,  you  can  see— I  don't  like 
to  ask  him  just  at  the  moment." 

She  hesitated  visibly,  and  scanned  his  face  with  a  wist 
ful  gaze.  "  You  're  quite  sure,  Joel  ?  " — she  began — <?  and 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  4! 

you  have  n't  told  me — how  long  will  it  be  before  you 
come  into  some  of  this  money  ?  " 

"  Well," — he  in  turn  paused  over  his  words — "  well,  I 
suppose  that  by  next  week  things  will  be  in  such  shape 
that  my  bank  will  see  I  'm  good  for  an  overdraft.  Oh 
heavens,  yes  !  there  '11  be  a  hundred  ways  of  touching 
some  ready.  But  if  you  've  got  twenty  or  thirty  pounds 
handy  just  now — I  tell  you  what  I  '11  do,  L,ou.  I  '11  give 
you  a  three  months  bill,  paying  one  hundred  pounds  for 
every  sovereign  you  let  me  have  now.  Come,  old  lady  : 
you  don't  get  such  interest  every  day,  I  '11  bet." 

"  I  don't  want  any  interest  from  you,  Joel,"  she  replied, 
simply.  "  If  you  're  sure  I  can  have  it  back  before  Christ 
mas,  I  think  I  can  manage  thirty  pounds.  It  will  do  in 
the  morning,  I  suppose  ?  " 

He  nodded  an  amused  affirmative.  "  Why — you  don't 
imagine,  do  you,"  he  said,  "  that  all  this  gold  is  to  rain 
down,  and  none  of  it  hit  you  ?  Interest  ?  Why  of  course 
you  '11  get  interest — and  capital  thrown  in.  What  did 
you  suppose  ?  " 

11  I  don't  ask  anything  for  myself,"  she  made  answer, 
with  a  note  of  resolution  in  her  voice.  "  Of  course  if  you 
like  to  do  things  for  the  children,  it  won't  be  me  who  '11 
stand  in  their  light.  They  've  been  spoiled  for  my  kind 
of  life  as  it  is." 

"  I  '11  do  things  for  everybody,"  he  affirmed  roundly. 
"  Let  's  see— how  old  is  Alfred  ?  " 

"  He  '11  be  twenty  in  May — and  Julia  is  fourteen  months 
older  than  he  is." 

"  Gad  !  "  was  Thorpe's  meditative  comment.  "How 
they  shoot  up  !  Why  I  was  thinking  she  was  a  little  girl. ' ' 

"  She  never  will  be  tall,  I  'm  afraid,"  said  the  literal 
mother.  "  She  favours  her  father's  family.  But  Alfred 
is  more  of  a  Thorpe.  I  'm  sorry  you  missed  seeing  them 


42  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

last  summer — but  of  course  they  did  n't  stop  long  with 
me.  This  was  no  place  for  them — and  they  had  a  good 
many  invitations  to  visit  schoolfellows  and  friends  in  the 
country.  Alfred  reminds  me  very  much  of  what  you  were 
at  his  age  :  he  's  got  the  same  good  opinion  of  himself, 
too — and  he  's  not  a  bit  fonder  of  hard  work." 

"  There  's  one  mighty  big  difference  between  us, 
though,"  remarked  Thorpe.  "  He  won't  start  with  his 
nose  held  down  to  the  grindstone  by  an  old  father  hard  as 
nails.  He  '11  start  like  a  gentleman — the  nephew  of  a 
rich  man." 

"  I  'm  almost  afraid  to  have  such  notions  put  in  his 
head,"  she  replied,  with  visible  apprehension.  "  You 
must  n't  encourage  him  to  build  too  high  hopes,  Joel. 
It  's  speculation,  you  know — and  anything  might  happen 
to  you.  And  then — you  may  marry,  and  have  sons  of 
your  own." 

He  lifted  his  brows  swiftly — as  if  the  thought  were  new 
to  his  mind.  A  slow  smile  stole  into  the  little  wrinkles 
about  his  eyes.  He  opened  his  lips  as  if  to  speak,  and 
then  closed  them  again. 

11  Well,"  he  said  at  last,  abruptly  straightening  himself, 
and  casting  an  eye  about  for  his  coat  and  hat.  "  I  '11  be 
round  in  the  morning — on  my  way  to  the  City.  Good-bye 
till  then." 


CHAPTER  IV 

IN  Charing  Cross  station,  the  next  afternoon,  Mr.  Thorpe 
discovered  by  the  big  clock  overhead  that  he  had  ar 
rived  fully  ten  minutes  too  soon.  This  deviation  from  his 
deeply-rooted  habit  of  catching  trains  at  the  last  possible 
moment  did  not  take  him  by  surprise.  He  smiled  dryly, 
and  nodded  fo  the  illuminated  dial,  as  if  they  shared  the 
secret  of  some  quaint  novelty.  This  getting  to  the  station 
ahead  of  time  was  of  a  piece  with  what  had  been  happen 
ing  all  day— merely  one  more  token  of  the  general  up 
heaval  in  the  routine  of  his  life. 

From  early  morning  he  had  been  acutely  conscious 
of  the  feeling  that  his  old  manners  and  usages  and  methods 
of  thought — the  thousand  familiar  things  that  made  up 
the  Thorpe  he  had  been — were  becoming  strange  to  him. 
They  fitted  him  no  longer  ;  they  began  to  fall  away  from 
him.  Now,  as  he  stood  here  on  the  bustling  platform,  it 
was  as  if  they  had  all  disappeared — been  left  somewhere 
behind  him  outside  the  station.  With  the  two  large  bags 
(which  the  porter  was  looking  after — both  of  a  quite  dis 
concerting  freshness  of  aspect — and  the  new  overcoat  and 
shining  hat,  he  seemed  to  himself  a  new  kind  of  being, 
embarked  upon  a  voyage  of  discovery  in  the  unknown. 

Uven  his  face  was  new.  A  sudden  and  irresistible  im 
pulse  had  led  him  to  the  barber-shop  in  his  hotel  at  the 
outset  ;  he  could  not  wait  till  after  breakfast  to  have  his 
beard  removed.  The  result,  when  he  beheld  it  in  the 
mirror,  had  not  been  altogether  reassuring.  The  over- 


44  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

long,  thin,  tawny  moustasche  which  survived  the  razor 
assumed  an  undue  prominence  ;  the  jaw  and  chin,  re 
vealed  now  for  the  first  time  in  perhaps  a  dozen  years, 
seemed  of  a  sickly  colour,  and,  in  some  inexplicable  way, 
misshapen.  Many  times  during  the  day,  at  his  office,  at 
the  restaurant  where  he  lunched,  at  various  outfitters' 
shops  which  he  had  visited,  he  had  pursued  the  task  of 
getting  reconciled  to  this  novel  visage  in  the  looking- 
glass.  The  little  mirrors  in  the  hansom  cabs  had  helped 
him  most  in  this  endeavour.  Each  returned  to  him  an 
image  so  different  from  all  the  others— some  cadaverous, 
some  bloated,  but  each  with  a  spontaneous  distortion  of 
its  own — that  it  had  become  possible  for  him  to  strike  an 
average  tolerable  to  himself,  and  to  believe  in  it. 

His  sister  had  recognized  him  upon  the  instant,  when 
he  entered  the  old  book-shop  to  get  the  money  promised 
overnight,  but  in  the  City  his  own  clerks  had  not  known 
him  at  first.  There  was  in  this  an  inspiring  implication 
that  he  had  not  so  much  changed  his  appearance  as  re 
vived  his  youth.  The  consciousness  that  he  was  in  reality 
still  a  young  man  spread  over  his  mind  afresh,  and  this 
time  he  felt  that  it  was  effacing  all  earlier  impressions. 
Why,  when  he  thought  of  it,  the  delight  he  had  had 
during  the  day  in  buying  new  shirts  and  handkerchiefs 
and  embroidered  braces,  in  looking  over  the  various  stocks 
of  razors,  toilet  articles,  studs  and  sleeve-links,  and  the 
like,  and  telling  the  gratified  tradesmen  to  give  him  the 
best  of  everything — this  delight  had  been  distinctively 
boyish.  He  doubted,  indeed,  if  any  mere  youth  could 
have  risen  to  the  heights  of  tender  satisfaction  from  which 
he  reflected  upon  the  contents  of  his  portmanteaus.  To 
apprehend  their  full  value  one  must  have  been  without 
them  for  such  a  weary  time  !  He  had  this  wonderful  ad 
vantage — that  he  supplemented  the  fresh- hearted  joy  of 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  45 

the  youth  in  nice  things,  with  the  adult  man's  knowledge 
of  how  bald  existence  could  be  without  them.  It  was 
worth  having  lived  all  those  forty  obscure  and  mostly 
unpleasant  years,  for  this  one  privilege  now  of  being 
able  to  appreciate  to  the  uttermost  the  touch  of  double- 
silk  underwear. 

It  was  an  undoubted  pity  that  there  had  not  been  time 
to  go  to  a  good  tailor.  The  suit  he  had  on  was  right 
enough  for  ordinary  purposes,  and  his  evening-clothes 
were  as  good  as  new,  but  the  thought  of  a  costume  for 
shooting  harassed  his  mind.  He  had  brought  along  with 
him,  for  this  eventful  visit,  an  old  Mexican  outfit  of  yel 
lowish-grey  cloth  and  leather,  much  the  worse  for  rough 
wear,  but  saved  from  the  disreputable  by  its  suggestion 
of  picturesque  experiences  in  a  strange  and  romantic 
country.  At  least  it  had  seemed  to  him,  in  the  morning, 
when  he  had  packed  it,  to  be  secure  in  this  salvation. 
Uneasy  doubts  on  the  subject  had  soon  risen,  however, 
and  they  had  increased  in  volume  and  poignancy  as  his 
conceptions  of  a  wardrobe  expanded  in  the  course  of  the 
day's  investigations  and  purchases.  He  had  reached  the 
point  now  of  hoping  that  it  would  rain  bitterly  on  the 
morrow. 

It  was  doubly  important  to  keep  a  close  look-out  for 
lyOrd  Plowden,  since  he  did  not  know  the  name  of  the 
station  they  were  to  book  for,  and  time  was  getting  short. 
He  dwelt  with  some  annoyance  upon  his  oversight  in  this 
matter,  as  his  watchful  glance  ranged  from  one  entrance 
to  another.  He  would  have  liked  to  buy  the  tickets  him 
self,  and  have  everything  in  readiness  on  the  arrival  of  his 
host.  As  it  was,  he  could  not  even  tell  the  porter  how 
his  luggage  was  to  be  labelled,  and  there  was  now  less 
than  two  minutes  !  He  moved  forward  briskly,  with  the 
thought  of  intercepting  his  friend  at  the,  front  of  the  sta- 


4b  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

tion  ;  then  halted,  and  went  back,  upon  the  recollection 
that  while  he  was  going  out  one  way ,  Plowden  might  come 
in  by  the  other.  The  seconds,  as  they  passed  now,  be 
came  severally  painful  to  his  nerves.  The  ringing  of  a 
bell  somewhere  beyond  the  barrier  provoked  within  him 
an  impulse  to  tearful  profanity. 

Then  suddenly  everything  was  all  right.  A  smooth 
faced,  civilly-spoken  young  man  came  up,  touched  his  hat, 
and  asked  :  ' '  Will  you  kindly  show  me  which  is  your 
luggage,  sir?" 

Thorpe,  even  while  wondering  what  business  of  his  it 
was,  indicated  the  ;  glaringly  new  bags— and  then  only 
half  repressed  a  cry  of  pleasure  at  discovering  that  L,ord 
Plowden  stood  beside  him. 

"  It' sail  right ;  my  man  will  look  out  for  your  things," 
said  the  latter,  as  they  shook  hands.  ' '  We  will  go  and 
get  our  places. ' ' 

The  fat  policeman  at  the  gate  touched  his  helmet.  A 
lean,  elderly  man  in  a  sort  of  guard's  uniform  hobbled 
obsequiously  before  them  down  the  platform,  opened  to 
them  a  first-class  compartment  with  a  low  bow  and  a  de 
precatory  wave  of  the  hand,  and  then  impressively  locked 
the  door  upon  them.  '  *  The  engine  will  be  the  other  way, 
my  L,ord,  after  you  leave  Cannon  Street,"  he  remarked 
through  the  open  window,  with  earnest  deference.  ' '  Are 
there  any  of  your  bags  that  you  want  in  the  compartment 
with  you  ?  " 

Plowden  had  nodded  to  the  first  remark.  He  shook  his 
head  at  the  second.  The  elderly  man  at  this,  with  still 
another  bow,  flapped  out  a  green  flag  which  he  had  been 
holding  furled  behind  his  back,  and  extended  it  at  arm's 
length.  The  train  began  slowly  to  move.  Mr.  Thorpe 
reflected  to  himself  that  the  peerage  was  by  no  means  so 
played-out  an  institution  as  some  people  imagined, 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  47 

"  Ho-ho  !  "  the  younger  man  sighed  a  yawn,  as  he 
tossed  his  hat  into  the  rack  above  his  head.  "  We  shall 
both  be  the  better  for  some  pure  air.  London  quite  does 
me  up.  And  you — you  've  been  sticking  at  it  months  on 
end,  have  n't  you  ?  You  look  rather  fagged — or  at  all 
events  you  did  yesterday.  You '  ve  smartened  yourself  so 
— without  your  beard — that  I  can't  say  I  'd  notice  it  to 
day.  But  I  take  it  every  sensible  person  is  glad  to  get 
away  from  London." 

"  Except  for  an  odd  Sunday,  now  and  then,  I  have  n't 
put  my  nose  outside  London  since  I  landed  here. ' '  Thorpe 
rose  as  he  spoke,  to  deposit  his  hat  also  in  the  rack.  He 
noted  with  a  kind  of  chagrin  that  his  companion's  was  an 
ordinary  low  black  bowler.  "  I  can  tell  you,  I  shall  be 
glad  of  the  change.  I  would  have  bought  the  tickets, ' ' 
he  went  on,  giving  words  at  random  to  the  thought  which 
he  found  fixed  on  the  surface  of  his  mind,  "  if  I  'd  only 
known  what  our  station  was." 

Plowden  waved  his  hand,  and  the  gesture  seemed  to 
dismiss  the  subject.  He  took  a  cigar  case  from  his  pocket, 
and  offered  it  to  Thorpe. 

"  It  was  lucky,  my  not  missing  the  train  altogether," 
he  said,  as  they  lighted  their  cigars.  "  I  was  up  late  last 
night — turned  out  late  this  morning,  been  late  all  day, 
somehow — could  n't  catch  up  with  the  clock  for  the  life 
of  me.  Your  statement  to  me  last  night — you  know  it 
rather  upset  me." 

The  other  smiled.  "  Well,  I  guess  I  know  something 
about  that  feeling  myself.  Why,  I  've  been  buzzing 
about  today  like  a  hen  with  her  head  cut  off.  But  it  's 
fun,  though,  aint  it,  eh  ?  Just  to  happen  to  remember 
every  once  in  a  while,  you  know,  that  it  's  all  true  !  But 
of  course  it  means  a  thousand  times  more  to  me  than  it 
does  to  you." 


48  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

The  train  had  come  to  a  stop  inside  the  gloomy,  domed 
cavern  of  Cannon  Street.  Many  men  in  silk  hats  crowded 
to  and  fro  on  the  platform,  and  a  number  of  them  shook 
the  handle  of  the  locked  door.  There  was  an  effect  of 
curses  in  the  sound  of  their  remarks  which  came  through 
the  closed  window.  Mr.  Thorpe  could  not  quite  restrain 
the  impulse  to  grin  at  them. 

"  Ah,  that 's  where  you  mistake/'  said  Plowden,  con 
templating  the  mouthful  of  smoke  he  slowly  blew  forth. 
"  My  dear  man,  you  can't  imagine  anybody  to  whom  it 
would  mean  more  than  it  does  to  me — I  hope  none  of 
those  fellows  have  a  key.  They  're  an  awful  bore  on  this 
train.  I  almost  never  go  by  it,  for  that  reason.  Ah, 
thank  God  we  're  off ! — But  as  I  was  saying,  this  thing 
makes  a  greater  difference  to  me  than  you  can  think  of. 
I  could  n't  sleep  last  night — I  give  you  my  word — the 
thing  upset  me  so.  I  take  it  you — you  have  never  had 
much  money  before  ;  that  is,  you  know  from  experience 
what  poverty  is  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  nodded  with  eloquent  gravity. 

"  Well — but  you  " — the  other  began,  and  then  paused. 
"  What  I  mean  is,"  he  resumed,  "  you  were  never,  at  any 
rate,  responsible  to  anybody  but  yourself.  If  you  had 
only  a  sovereign  a  day,  or  a  sovereign  a  week,  for  that 
matter,  you  could  accommodate  yourself  to  the  require 
ments  of  the  situation.  I  don't  mean  that  you  would 
enjoy  it  any  more  than  I  should — but  at  least  it  wras  open 
to  you  to  do  it,  without  attracting  much  attention.  But 
with  me — placed  in  my  ridiculous  position — poverty  has 
been  the  most  unbearable  torture  one  can  imagine.  You 
see,  there  is  no  way  in  which  I  can  earn  a  penny.  I  had 
to  leave  the  Army  when  I  was  twenty-three — the  other 
fellows  all  had  plenty  of  money  to  spend,  and  it  was  im 
possible  for  me  to  drag  along  with  a  title  and  an  empty 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  49 

pocket.  I  daresay  that  I  ought  to  have  stuck  to  it,  be 
cause  it  is  n't  nearly  so  bad  now,  but  twelve  years  ago  it 
was  too  cruel  for  any  youngster  who  had  any  pride  about 
him — and,  of  course,  my  father  having  made  rather  a 
name  in  the  Army,  that  made  it  so  much  harder  for  me. 
And  after  that,  what  was  there  ?  Of  course,  the  bar  and 
medicine  and  engineering  and  those  things  were  out  of 
the  question,  in  those  days  at  least.  The  Church  ? — that 
was  more  so  still.  I  had  a  try  at  politics — but  you  need 
money  there  as  much  as  anywhere  else — money  or  big 
family  connections.  I  voted  in  practically  every  division 
for  four  years,  and  I  made  the  rottenest  speeches  you  ever 
heard  of  at  Primrose  League  meetings  in  small  places,  and 
after  all  that  the  best  thing  the  whips  could  offer  me  was 
a  billet  in  India  at  four  hundred  a  year,  and  even  that  you 
took  in  depreciated  rupees.  When  I  tried  to  talk  about 
something  at  home,  they  practically  laughed  in  my  face. 
I  had  no  leverage  upon  them  whatever.  They  did  n't 
care  in  the  least  whether  I  came  up  and  voted  or  stopped 
at  home.  Their  majority  was  ten  to  one  just  the  same — 
yes,  twenty  to  one.  So  that  door  was  shut  in  my  face. 
I  've  never  been  inside  the  House  since — except  once  to 
show  it  to  an  American  lady  last  summer — but  when  I  do 
go  again  I  rather  fancy  " — he  stopped  for  an  instant,  and 
nodded  his  handsome  head  significantly — "  I  rather  fancy 
I  shall  turn  up  on  the  other  side." 

"  I  'm  a  Liberal  myself,  in  English  politics,"  interposed 
Thorpe. 

Plowden  seemed  not  to  perceive  the  connection.  They 
had  left  London  Bridge  behind,  and  he  put  his  feet  up  on 
the  cushions,  and  leant  back  comfortably.  "  Of  course 
there  was  the  City,"  he  went  on,  speaking  diagonally 
across  to  his  companion,  between  leisurely  intervals  of 
absorption  in  his  cigar.  ' '  There  have  been  some  directors' 


5O  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

fees,  no  doubt,  and  once  or  twice  I  've  come  very  near  to 
what  promised  to  be  a  big  thing — but  I  never  quite  pulled 
it  off.  Really,  without  capital  what  can  one  do  ? — I  'm 
curious  to  know — did  you  bring  much  ready  money  with 
you  to  England  ?  ' ' 

' '  Between  six  and  seven  thousand  pounds. ' ' 

"  And  if  it  's  a  fair  question — how  much  of  it  have  you 
got  left?" 

Thorpe  had  some  momentary  doubts  as  to  whether  this 
was  a  fair  question,  but  he  smothered  them  under  the 
smile  with  which  he  felt  impelled  to  answer  the  twinkle 
in  Plowden's  eyes.  "  Oh,  less  than  a  hundred,"  he  said, 
and  laughed  aloud. 

Plowden  also  laughed.  "  By  George,  that  's  fine  !  "  he 
cried.  "It  's  splendid.  There's  drama  in  it.  I  felt  it 
was  like  that,  you  know.  Something  told  me  it  was  your 
last  cartridge  that  rang  the  bell.  It  was  that  that  made 
me  come  to  you  as  I  did — and  tell  you  that  you  were  a 
great  man,  and  that  I  wanted  to  enlist  under  you.  Ah, 
that  kind  of  courage  is  so  rare  !  When  a  man  has  it,  he 
can  stand  the  world  on  its  head." 

"  But  I  was  plumb  scared,  all  the  while,  myself," 
Thorpe  protested,  genially.  ' '  Courage  ?  I  could  feel  it 
running  out  of  my  boots. ' ' 

<c  Ah,  yes,  but  that  's  the  great  thing,"  insisted  the 
other.  "  You  did  n't  look  as  if  you  were  frightened. 
From  all  one  could  see,  your  nerve  was  sublime.  And 
nothing  else  matters — it  was  sublime." 

"  Curious — that  thing  happened  to  me  once  before," 

commented  Thorpe,  with  ruminating  slowness.     "  It  was 

!  out  on  the  plains,  years  ago,  and  I  was  in  pretty  hard 

1   luck,  and  was  making  my  way  alone  from  Tucson  north, 

and  some  cowboys  held  me  up,  and  were  going  to  make 

kindling  wood  of  me,  they  being  under  the  impression 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  5 1 

that  I  was  a  horse-thief  they  were  looking  after.  There 
was  five  or  six  minutes  there  when  my  life  was  n't  worth 
a  last  year's  bird's-nest — and  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  was  the 
scaredest  man  that  ever  drew  the  breath  of  life.  And 
then  something  happened  to  be  said  that  put  the  matter 
right— they  saw  I  was  the  wrong  man — and  then — why 
then  they  could  n't  be  polite  enough  to  me.  They  half 
emptied  their  flasks  down  my  throat,  and  they  rode  with 
me  all  the  way  to  the  next  town,  and  there  they  wanted 
to  buy  everything  liquid  in  the  place  for  me.  But  what  I 
was  speaking  of — do  you  know,  those  fellows  got  a  tre 
mendous  notion  of  my  nerve.  It  was  n't  so  much  that 
they  told  me  so,  but  they  told  others  about  it.  They 
really  thought  I  was  game  to  the  core — when  in  reality, 
as  I  tell  you,  I  was  in  the  deadliest  funk  you  ever  heard 
of." 

"That  's  just  it,"  said  Plowden,  "the  part  of  you 
which  was  engaged  in  making/  mental  notes  of  the  occa 
sion  thought  you  were  frightened  ;  we  will  say  that  it  was 
itself  frightened.  But  the  other  part  of  you,  the  part  that 
was  transacting  business,  so  to  speak — that  was  n't  in  the 
least  alarmed.  I  fancy  all  born  commanders  are  built  like 
that.  Did  you  ever  see  General  Grant  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  shook  his  head. 

"  What  reminded  me  of  him — there  is  an  account  in  his 
Memoirs  of  how  he  felt  when  he  first  was  given  a  com 
mand,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War.  He  was  look 
ing  about  for  the  enemy,  who  was  known  to  be  in  the 
vicinity,  and  the  nearer  he  got  to  where  this  enemy  prob 
ably  was,  the  more  he  got  timid  and  unnerved,  he  says, 
until  it  seemed  as  if  cowardice  were  getting  complete 
mastery  of  him.  And  then  suddenly  it  occurred  to  him 
that  very  likely  the  enemy  was  just  as  afraid  of  him  as  he 
was  of  the  enemy,  and  that  moment  his  bravery  all  re- 


52  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

turned  to  him.  He  went  in  and  gave  the  other  man  a 
terrible  thrashing.  It  does  n't  apply  to  your  case,  par 
ticularly — but  I  fancy  that  all  really  brave  men  have  those 
inner  convictions  of  weakness,  even  while  they  are  be 
having  like  lions.  Those  must  have  been  extraordinarily 
interesting  experiences  of  yours — on  the  plains.  I  wish  I 
could  have  seen  something  of  that  part  of  America  when 
I  was  there  last  year.  Unfortunately,  it  did  n't  come  my 
way. ' ' 

"  I  thought  I  remembered  your  saying  you  'd  been 
West." 

Plowden  smiled.  "  I  'm  afraid  I  did  think  it  was  West 
at  the  time.  But  since  my  return  I  've  been  warned  that 
I  must  n't  call  Chicago  West.  That  was  as  far  as  I  went. 
I  had  some  business  there,  or  thought  I  had.  When  my 
father  died,  that  was  in  1884,  we  found  among  his  papers 
a  lot  of  bonds  of  some  corporation  purporting  to  be 
chartered  by  the  State  of  Illinois.  Our  solicitors  wrote 
several  letters,  but  they  could  find  out  nothing  about 
them,  and  there  the  matter  rested.  Finally,  last  year, 
when  I  decided  to  make  the  trip,  I  recollected  these  old 
bonds,  and  took  them  with  me.  I  thought  they  might  at 
least  pay  my  expenses.  But  it  was  n't  the  least  good. 
Nobody  knew  anything  about  them.  It  seems  they  re 
lated  to  something  that  was  burned  up  in  the  Great  Fire 
— either  that,  or  had  disappeared  before  that  time.  That 
fire  seems  to  have  operated  like  the  Deluge — it  cancelled 
everything  that  had  happened  previously.  My  unhappy 
father  had  a  genius  for  that  kind  of  investment.  I  shall 
have  great  pleasure  in  showing  you  tomorrow,  a  very 
picturesque  and  comprehensive  collection  of  Confederate 
Bonds.  Their  face  value  is,  as  I  remember  it,  eighty 
thousand  dollars — that  is,  sixteen  thousand  pounds.  I 
would  entertain  with  joy  an  offer  of  sixteen  shillings  for 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  53 

the  lot.  My  dear  father  bought  them — I  should  not  be 
surprised  to  learn  that  he  bought  them  at  a  premium.  If 
they  ever  touched  a  premium  for  a  day,  that  is  certainly 
the  day  that  he  would  have  hit  upon  to  buy.  Oh,  it  was 
too  rare !  Too  inspired !  He  left  nearly  a  hundred  thou 
sand  pounds'  worth  of  paper — that  is,  on  its  face — upon 
which  the  solicitors  realized,  I  think  it  was  thirteen  hun 
dred  pounds.  It  's  hard  to  imagine  how  he  got  them — 
but  there  were  actually  bonds  among  them  issued  by  Kos- 
suth's  Hungarian  Republic  in  1848.  Well — now  you  can 
see  the  kind  of  inheritance  I  came  into,  and  I  have  a 
brother  and  sister  more  or  less  to  look  after,  too. ' ' 

Thorpe  had  been  listening  to  these  details  with  an 
almost  exaggerated  expression  of  sympathy  upon  his 
face.  The  voice  in  which  he  spoke  now  betrayed,  how 
ever,  a  certain  note  of  incredulity. 

"  Yes,  I  see  that  well  enough,"  he  remarked.  "  But 
what  I  don't  perhaps  quite  understand — well,  this  is  it. 
You  have  this  place  of  yours  in  the  country,  and  preserve 
game  and  so  on — but  of  course  I  see  what  you  mean. 
It  's  what  you  've  been  saying.  What  another  man 
would  think  a  comfortable  living,  is  poverty  to  a  man  in 
your  position." 

"  Oh,  the  place,"  said  Plowden.  "  It  is  n't  mine  at 
all.  I  could  never  have  kept  it  up.  It  belongs  to  my 
mother.  It  was  her  father's  place  ;  it  has  been  in  their 
family  for  hundreds  of  years.  Her  father,  I  daresay  you 
know,  was  the  last  Earl  of  Hever.  The  title  died  with 
him.  He  left  three  daughters,  who  inherited  his  estates, 
and  my  mother,  being  the  eldest,  got  the  Kentish  proper 
ties.  Of  course  Hadlow  House  will  come  to  me  eventually, 
but  it  is  hers  during  her  lifetime.  I  may  speak  of  it  as  my 
place,  but  that  is  merely  a/afon  de parler ;  it  is  n't  neces 
sary  to  explain  to  everybody  that  it 's  my  mother's.  It  's 


54  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

my  home,  and  that  's  enough.  It 's  a  dear  old  place.  I 
can't  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  that  you  're  going  to  see  it." 

"  I  'm  very  glad,  too,"  said  the  other,  with  unaffected 
sincerity. 

"  All  the  ambitions  I  have  in  the  world,"  the  nobleman 
went  on,  sitting  upright  now,  and  speaking  with  a  confi 
dential  seriousness,  ' '  centre  round  Hadlow.  That  is  the 
part  of  me  that  I  'm  keen  about.  The  Plowdens  are 
things  of  yesterday.  My  grandfather,  the  Chancellor, 
began  in  a  very  small  way,  and  was  never  anything  more 
than  a  clever  lawyer,  with  a  loud  voice  and  a  hard  heart, 
and  a  talent  for  money-making  and  politics.  He  got  a 
peerage  and  he  left  a  fortune.  My  father,  for  all  he  was 
a  soldier,  had  a  mild  voice  and  a  soft  heart.  He  gave  a 
certain  military  distinction  to  the  peerage,  but  he  played 
hell-and-tommy  with  the  fortune.  And  then  I  come  :  I 
can't  be  either  a  Chancellor  or  a  General,  and  I  have  n't 
a  penny  to  bless  myself  with.  You  can't  think  of  a  more 
idiotic  box  for  a  man  to  be  in.  But  now — thanks  to  you 
— there  comes  this  prospect  of  an  immense  change.  If  I 
have  money  at  my  back — at  once  everything  is  different 
with  me.  People  will  remember  then  promptly  enough 
that  I  am  a  Hadlow,  as  well  as  a  Plowden.  I  will  make 
the  party  whips  remember  it,  too.  It  won't  be  a  Secre 
tary's  billet  in  India  at  four  hundred  a  year  that  they  '11 
offer  me,  but  a  Governorship  at  six  thousand — that  is,  if 
I  wish  to  leave  England  at  all.  And  we  '11  see  which  set 
of  whips  are  to  have  the  honour  of  offering  me  anything. 
But  all  that  is  in  the  air.  It  's  enough,  for  the  moment, 
to  realize  that  things  have  really  come  my  way.  And 
about  that — about  the  success  of  the  affair — I  suppose 
there  can  be  no  question  whatever  ?  ' ' 

"  Not  the  slightest,"  Thorpe  assured  him.  "  Rubber 
Consols  can  go  up  to  any  figure  we  choose  to  name." 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  55 

Lord  Plowden  proffered  the  cigar  case  again,  and  once 
more  helped  himself  after  he  had  given  his  companion  a 
light.  Then  he  threw  himself  back  against  the  cushions, 
with  a  long  sigh  of  content.  "  I  'm  not  going  to  say 
another  word  about  myself,"  he  announced,  pleasantly. 
"  I  've  had  more  than  my  legitimate  innings.  You 
must  n't  think  that  I  forget  for  a  moment  the  reverse  of 
the  medal.  You  're  doing  wonderful  things  for  me.  I 
only  wish  it  were  clearer  to  me  what  the  wonderful  things 
are  that  I  can  do  for  you.  '  ' 

"Oh,  that  '11  be  all  right,"  said  the  other,  rather 
vaguely. 

"  Perhaps  it  's  a  little  early  for  you  to  have  mapped 
out  in  your  mind  just  what  you  want  to  do,"  Plowden 
reflected  aloud.  "  Of  course  it  has  come  suddenly 
upon  you  —  just  as  it  has  upon  me.  There  are  things 
in  plenty  that  we  've  dreamed  of  doing,  while  the  power 
to  do  them  was  a  long  way  off.  It  does  n't  at  all  follow 
that  these  are  the  things  we  shall  proceed  to  do,  when 
the  power  is  actually  in  our  hands.  But  have  you  any 
plans  at  all  ?  Do  you  fancy  going  into  Parliament,  for 
example  ?  '  ' 

"  Yes,"  answered  Thorpe,  meditatively.  "  I  think  I 
should  like  to  go  into  Parliament.  But  that  would  be 
some  way  ahead.  I  guess  I  Ve  got  my  plans  worked  out 
a  trifle  more  than  you  think.  They  may  not  be  very 
definite,  as  regards  details,  but  their  main  direction  I  . 
know  well  enough.  I  'm  going  to  be  an  English  country 
gentleman." 


Plowden  visibly  winced  a  little  at  this  announce 
ment.  He  seemed  annoyed  at  the  consciousness  that  he 
had  done  so,  turning  abruptly  first  to  stare  out  of  the 
window,  then  shifting  his  position  on  the  seat,  and  at  last 
stealing  an  uneasy  glance  toward  his  companion.  A|>- 


56  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

patently  his  tongue  was  at  a  loss  for  an   appropriate 
comment. 

Thorpe  had  lost  none  of  these  unwilling  tokens  of  em 
barrassment.  Plowden  saw  that  at  once,  but  it  relieved 
even  more  than  it  surprised  him  to  see  also  that  Thorpe 
appeared  not  to  mind.  The  older  man,  indeed,  smiled  in 
good-natured  if  somewhat  ironical  comprehension  of  the 
dumb-show. 

<(  Oh,  that  '11  be  all  right,  too,"  he  said,  with  the  evi 
dent  intention  of  reassurance.  ' '  I  can  do  it  right  enough, 
so  far  as  the  big  things  are  concerned.  It  '11  be  in  the 
little  things  that  I  '11  want  some  steering." 

"  I  've  already  told  you — you  may  command  me  to  the 
utmost  of  my  power,"  the  other  declared.  Upon  reflec 
tion,  he  was  disposed  to  be  ashamed  of  himself.  His 
nerves  and  facial  muscles  had  been  guilty  of  an  unpardon 
able  lapse  into  snobbishness — and  toward  a  man,  too,  who 
had  been  capable  of  behaviour  more  distinguished  in  its 
courtesy  and  generosity  than  any  he  had  encountered  in 
all  the  "  upper  circles  "  put  together.  He  recalled  all  at 
once,  moreover,  that  Thorpe's  "  h's"  were  perfect — and, 
for  some  occult  reason,  this  completed  his  confusion. 

"  My  dear  fellow  " — he  began  again,  confronting  with 
verbal  awkwardness  the  other's  quizzical  smile — "  don't 
think  I  doubt  anything  about  you.  I  know  well  enough 
that  you  can  do  anything — be  anything — you  like." 

Thorpe  laughed  softly. 

"  I  don't  think  you  know,  though,  that  I  'm  a  public- 
school  man, ' '  he  said. 

Plowden  lifted  his  brows  in  unfeigned  surprise.  ' '  No 
— I  did  n't  know  that,"  he  admitted,  frankly. 

'Yes,  I  'm  a  Paul's  Pigeon,"  Thorpe  went  on,  "as 
they  called  them  in  my  day.  That  's  gone  out  now,  I  'm 
told,  since  they  've  moved  to  the  big  buildings  in  Ham- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  57 

mersmith.  I  did  very  well  at  school,  too  ;  came  out  in 
the  first  fourteen.  But  my  father  would  n't  carry  thei 
thing  any  further.  He  insisted  on  my  going  into  the 
shop  when  I  left  St.  Paul's  and  learning  the  book-business. 
He  had  precisely  the  same  kind  of  dynastic  idea,  you 
know,  that  you  fellows  have.  His  father  and  his  grand 
father  had  been  booksellers,  and  he  was  going  to  hand  on 
the  tradition  to  me,  and  my  son  after  me.  That  was  his 
idea.  And  he  thought  that  Paul's  would  help  this — but 
that  Oxford  would  kill  it. 

1 '  Of  course,  he  was  right  there — but  he  was  wrong  in 
supposing  there  was  a  bookseller  in  me.  I  liked  the 
books  well  enough,  mind  you — but  damn  the  people  that 
came  to  buy  them,  I  could  n't  stand  it.  You  stood  two 
hours  watching  to  see  that  men  did  n't  put  volumes  in 
their  pockets,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  you  'd  made  a 
profit  of  ninepence.  While  you  were  doing  up  the  parcel, 
some  fellow  walked  off  with  a  book  worth  eigh teen-pence. 
It  was  too  slow  for  me.  I  did  n't  hit  it  off  with  the  old 
man,  either.  We  did  n't  precisely  quarrel,  but  I  went 
off  on  my  own  hook.  I  hung  about  L,ondon  for  some 
years,  trying  this  thing  and  that.  Once  I  started  a  book 
shop  of  my  own — but  I  did  no  good  here.  Finally  I  turned 
it  up  altogether,  and  went  to  Australia.  That  was  in  1882. 
I  've  been  in  almost  every  quarter  of  the  globe  since;  I  've 
known  what  it  was  to  be  shipwrecked  in  a  monsoon,  and 
I  've  lain  down  in  a  desert  not  expecting  to  get  up  again, 
with  my  belt  tightened  to  its  last  hole  for  hunger — but  I 
can't  remember  that  I  ever  wished  myself  back  in  my 
father' s  book-shop. ' ' 

Plowden's  fine  eyes  sparkled  his  appreciation  of  the 
other's  mood.  He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  lifted 
his  head  as  if  something  had  occurred  to  him.  '  You 
were  speaking  of  the  plan  that  you  should  succeed  to  your 


58  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

father's  business — and  your  son  after  you — you  're  not 
married,  are  you  ?  " 

Thorpe  slowly  shook  his  head. 

"  Our  station  is  the  next,"  said  the  younger  man. 
"It  's  a  drive  of  something  under  two  miles.  You  'd 
better  light  another  cigar."  He  added,  as  if  upon  a 
casual  afterthought :  ' '  We  can  both  of  us  think  of  marry 
ing  now.'* 


CHAPTER  V 

FOR  the  next  two  hours,  Thorpe's  thoughts  were 
almost  wholly  occupied  with  various  phases  of  the 
large  subject  of  domestic  service.  He  seemed  suddenly  to 
have  been  transported  to  some  region  populated  ex 
clusively  by  clean-shaven  men  in  brown  livery.  One  of 
these  was  holding  a  spirited  horse  outside  the  station,  and 
when  Lord  Plowden  had  taken  the  reins,  and  Thorpe  had 
gathered  the  rugs  about  his  knees  and  feet,  this  menial 
silently  associated  himself  with  the  young  man  who  had 
accompanied  them  from  town,  on  the  back  seat  of  the 
trap.  With  these  people  so  close  behind  him,  Thorpe  felt 
that  any  intimate  conversation  was  out  of  the  question. 
Indeed,  talk  of  any  sort  was  not  invited  ;  the  big  horse 
burst  forth  with  high,  sprawling  strides  upon  a  career 
through  the  twilight,  once  the  main  road  was  reached, 
which  it  taxed  all  Plowden' s  energies  to  regulate.  He 
kept  up  a  continual  murmuring  monologue  to  the  animal 
— "  So — so — quiet,  my  pet, — so — so — easy,  my  beauty — so 
— so  ' '  —  and  his  wrists  and  gloved  hands  were  visibly 
under  a  tremendous  tension  of  strain,  as  they  held  their 
own  against  the  rigid  arched  neck  and  mouth  of  steel. 
Thorpe  kept  a  grip  on  the  side  of  the  trap,  and  had  only 
a  modified  pleasure  in  the  drive.  The  road  along  which 
they  sped  seemed,  in  the  gathering  dusk,  uncomfortably 
narrow,  and  he  speculated  a  good  deal  as  to  how  fright 
ened  the  two  mutes  behind  him  must  be.  But  silence  was 
such  a  law  of  their  life  that,  though  he  strained  his  ears, 
he  could  not  so  much  as  hear  them  sigh  or  gasp. 

59 


60  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

It  seemed  but  a  very  few  minutes  before  they  turned 
off,  with  but  the  most  fleeting  diminution  of  pace,  upon  a 
private  road,  which  speedily  developed  into  an  avenue  of 
trees,  quite  dark  and  apparently  narrower  than  ever. 
Down  this  they  raced  precipitately,  and  then,  coming  out 
all  at  once  upon  an  open  space,  swung  smartly  round  the 
crescent  of  a  gravel  road,  and  halted  before  what  seemed 
to  be  the  door  of  a  greenhouse.  Thorpe,  as  he  stood  up 
in  the  trap,  got  an  uncertain,  general  idea  of  a  low,  pale- 
coloured  mansion  in  the  background,  with  lights  showing 
behind  curtains  in  several  widely  separated  windows  ; 
what  he  had  taken  to  be  a  conservatory  revealed  itself 
now  to  be  a  glass  gallery,  built  along  the  front  of  the  cen 
tral  portion  of  this  house. 

A  profusion  of  hospitable  lights — tall  wax-candles  in 
brackets  among  the  vines  against  the  trellised  wall — gave 
to  this  outlying  entrance  what  the  stranger  felt  to  be  a 
delightful  effect.  Its  smooth  tiled  floor,  comfortably  be 
strewn  with  rugs,  was  on  a  level  with  the  path  outside. 
There  were  low  easy-chairs  here,  and  a  little  wicker  table 
bearing  books  and  a  lady's  work-basket.  Further  on, 
giant  chrysanthemum  blooms  were  massed  beneath  the 
clusters  of  pale  plumbago-flowers  on  the  trellis.  Directly 
in  front,  across  the  dozen  feet  of  this  glazed  vestibule,  the 
broad  doorway  of  the  house  proper  stood  open — with 
warm  lights  glowing  richly  upon  dark  woods  in  the 
luxurious  obscurity  within. 

What  Thorpe  noted  most  of  all,  however,  was  the  ser 
vants  who  seemed  to  swarm  everywhere.  The  two  who 
had  alighted  from  the  trap  had  contrived  somehow  mys 
teriously  to  multiply  themselves  in  the  darkness.  All  at 
once  there  were  a  number  of  young  men — at  the  horse's 
head,  at  the  back  and  sides  of  the  trap,  at  the  first  door 
way,  and  the  second,  and  beyond — each  presenting  such 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  6r 

a  smooth-faced,  pallid,  brown-clad  replica  of  all  the  others 
that  Thorpe  knew  he  should  never  be  able  to  tell  them 
apart. 

Lord  Plowden  paused  for  a  moment  under  the  candle 
light  to  look  at  his  watch.  ' '  We  did  it  in  a  bit  over  eight 
minutes. ' '  he  remarked,  with  obvious  satisfaction.  ' '  With 
four  people  and  heavy  roads  that 's  not  so  bad — not  so  bad. 
But  come  inside." 

They  moved  forward  through  the  wide  doorway  into  an 
apartment  the  like  of  which  Thorpe  had  not  seen  before. 
It  was  a  large,  square  room,  with  a  big  staircase  at  the 
end,  which  separated  and  went  off  to  right  and  left,  half 
way  up  its  visible  course.  Its  floor  was  of  inlaid  woods, 
old  and  uneven  from  long  use,  and  carpeted  here  and  there 
by  the  skins  of  tigers  and  leopards.  There  were  many 
other  suggestions  of  the  chase  about  the  room  :  riding 
boots,  whips,  spurs,  and  some  stands  of  archaic  weapons 
caught  the  eye  at  various  points  ;  the  heads  of  foxes  and 
deer  peeped  out  on  the  blackened  panels  of  the  walls, 
from  among  clusters  of  hooks  crowded  with  coats,  hats, 
and  mackintoshes.  At  the  right,  where  a  fire  glowed  and 
blazed  under  a  huge  open  chimney-place,  there  were  low 
chairs  and  divans  drawn  up  to  mark  off  a  space  for  orderly 
domestic  occupation.  The  irregularity  of  everything  out 
side — the  great  table  in  the  centre  of  the  hall  strewn  with 
an  incongruous  litter  of  caps,  books,  flasks,  newspapers, 
gloves,  tobacco-pouches  ;  the  shoes,  slippers,  and  leggings 
scattered  under  the  benches  at  the  sides — all  this  self- 
renewing  disorder  of  a  careless  household  struck  Thorpe 
with  a  profound  surprise.  It  was  like  nothing  so  much 
as  a  Mexican  ranch — and  to  find  it  in  the  ancestral  home 
of  an  English  nobleman,  filled  to  overflowing  with  ser 
vants,  amazed  him. 

The  glances  that  he  cast  about  him,  however,  were  im- 


62  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

passive  enough.  His  mind  was  charged  with  the  cease 
less  responsibility  of  being  astonished  at  nothing.  A  man 
took  his  hat,  and  helped  him  off  with  his  coat.  Another 
moved  toward  the  staircase  with  his  two  bags. 

"  If  you  will  follow  Pangbourn,"  said  his  host,  indicat 
ing  this  second  domestic,  ' '  he  will  look  after  you.  You 
would  like  to  go  up  and  change  now,  would  n't  you? 
There  's  a  fire  in  your  room." 

Thus  dismissed,  he  went  up  the  stairs  in  the  wake  of 
his  portmanteaus,  taking  the  turning  to  the  left,  and  then 
proceeding  by  a  long,  low  passage,  round  more  than  one 
corner,  to  what  he  conceived  to  be  a  wing  of  the  house. 
The  servant  ushered  him  into  a  room — and,  in  despite  of 
himself,  he  sighed  with  pleasure  at  the  sight  of  it.  The 
prettiest  and  most  charming  of  rooms  it  seemed  to  him  to 
be — spacious  and  quaintly  rambling  in  shape,  with  a  deli 
cately-figured  chintz  repeating  the  dainty  effects  of  the 
walls  upon  the  curtains  and  carpet  and  bed-hangings 
and  chair-covers,  and  with  a  bright  fire  in  the  grate 
throwing  its  warm,  cozy  glow  over  everything.  He 
looked  at  the  pictures  on  the  walls,  at  the  photographs 
and  little  ornaments  on  the  writing  desk,  and  the  high 
posts  and  silken  coverlet  of  the  big  bed,  and,  secure  in 
the  averted  face  of  the  servant,  smiled  richly  to  himself. 

This  servant,  kneeling,  had  unstrapped  and  opened  the 
new  bags.  Thorpe  looked  to  see  him  quit  the  room,  this 
task  accomplished,  and  was  conscious  of  something  like 
dismay  at  the  discovery  that  he  intended  to  unpack  them 
as  well.  Pangbourn  began  gravely  to  unwrap  one  paper 
parcel  after  another  and  to  assort  their  contents  in  little 
heaps  on  the  sofa  beside  him.  He  did  it  deftly,  im- 
perturbably,  as  if  all  the  gentlemen  he  had  ever  seen 
carried  their  belongings  in  packages  done  up  by  trades 
men. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  63 

Thorpe's  impulse  to  bid  him  desist  framed  itself  in  words 
on  the  tip  of  his  tongue — but  he  did  not  utter  these  words. 
After  circling  idly,  hands  in  pockets,  about  the  man  and 
the  bags  for  a  little  time,  he  invented  something  which  it 
seemed  better  for  him  to  say. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  '11  be  able  to  make  of  those 
things,"  he  remarked,  casually.  "  My  man  has  been 
buying  them  today — and  I  don't  know  what  he  may  n't 
have  forgotten.  My  whole  outfit  of  that  sort  of  thing 
went  astray  or  was  stolen  at  some  station  or  other — the 
first  part  of  the  week — I  think  it  must  have  been  Leeds. ' ' 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Pangbourn,  without  emotion. 
"  They  're  very  careless,  sir." 

He  went  on  impassively,  shaking  out  the  black  gar 
ments  and  spreading  them  on  the  bed,  laying  out  a  shirt 
and  tie  beside  them,  and  arranging  the  razors,  strop,  and 
brushes  on  the  dressing-table.  He  seemed  to  foresee 
everything — for  there  was  not  an  instant's  hesitation  in 
the  clock-like  assiduity  of  his  movements,  as  he  bestowed 
handkerchiefs,  in  one  drawer,  socks  in  another,  hung 
pyjamas  before  the  fire,  and  set  the  patent-leather  pumps 
against  the  fender.  Even  the  old  Mexican  shooting-suit 
seemed  in  no  way  to  disconcert  him.  He  drew  forth  its 
constituent  elements  as  with  a  practised  hand  ;  when  he 
had  hung  them  up,  sombrero  and  all,  in  the  wardrobe 
against  the  wall,  they  had  the  trick  of  making  that  vener 
able  oaken  receptacle  look  as  if  it  had  been  fashioned  ex 
pressly  for  them. 

Thorpe's  earlier  uneasiness  quite  lost  itself  in  his  ad 
miration  for  Pangbourn' s  resourceful  dexterity.  The  de 
lighted  thought  that  now  he  would  be  needing  a  man  like 
this  for  himself  crossed  his  mind.  Conceivably  he  might 
even  get  this  identical  Pangbourn — treasure  though  he 
were.  Money  could  command  everything  on  this  broad 


64  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

globe — and  why  not  Pangbourn  ?  He  tentatively  felt  of 
the  coins  in  his  pocket,  as  it  became  apparent  that  the 
man's  task  was  nearing  completion — and  then  frowned  at 
himself  for  forgetting  that  these  things  were  always  re 
served  for  the  end  of  a  visit. 

"  Will  you  dress  now,  sir  ?  "  asked  Pangbourn.  His 
soft,  distinct  enunciation  conveyed  the  suggestion  of  cen 
turies  of  training. 

' '  Eh  ?  ' '  said  Thorpe,  finding  himself  for  the  moment 
behind  the  other's  thought. 

11  Shall  you  require  me  any  further,  sir  ?  "  the  man  re- 
framed  the  question,  deferentially. 

"Oh!  Oh— no,"  replied  Thorpe.  "  No— I  '11  get 
along  all  right." 

Left  to  himself,  he  began  hurriedly  the  task  of  shaving 
and  dressing.  The  candles  on  either  side  of  the  thick, 
bevelled  swinging  mirror  presented  a  somewhat  embar 
rassing  contrast  to  the  electric  light  he  was  used  to — but 
upon  second  thought  he  preferred  this  restrained  aristo 
cratic  glimmer. 

He  had  completed  his  toilet,  and  was  standing  at  the 
bay-window,  with  his  shoulder  holding  back  the  edge  of 
the  curtain,  looking  out  upon  the  darkened  lawn  and 
wondering  whether  he  ought  to  go  downstairs  or  wait  for 
someone  to  summon  him,  when  he  heard  a  knock  at  his 
door.  Before  he  could  answer,  the  door  opened,  and  he 
made  out  in  the  candle-  and  firelight  that  it  was  Lord 
Plowden  who  had  come  in.  He  stepped  forward  to  meet 
his  host  who,  clad  now  in  evening-clothes,  was  smoking  a 
cigarette. 

"  Have  they  looked  after  you  all  right  ?  "  said  Plowden, 
nonchalantly.  "  Have  a  cigarette  before  we  go  down? 
Light  it  by  the  candle.  They  never  will  keep  matches  in 
a  bedroom." 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  6$ 

He  seated  himself  in  an  easy-chair  before  the  fire,  as  he 
spoke,  and  stretched  out  his  shining  slippers  toward  the 
grate.  "  I  thought  I  'd  tell  you  before  we  went  down  " 
— he  went  on,  as  Thorpe,  with  an  elbow  on  the  mantel, 
looked  down  at  his  handsome  head — "  my  sister  has  a 
couple  of  ladies  visiting  her.  One  of  them  I  think  you 
know.  Do  you  remember  on  shipboard  a  Miss  Madden — 
an  American,  you  know — very  tall  and  fine,  with  bright 
red  hair — rather  remarkable  hair  it  was  ?  ' ' 

"  I  remember  the  lady,"  said  Thorpe,  upon  reflection, 
"  but  we  did  n't  meet."  He  could  not  wholly  divest  his 
tone  of  the  hint  that  in  those  days  it  by  no  means  followed 
that  because  he  saw  ladies  it  was  open  to  him  to  know 
them. 

Lord  Plowden  smiled  a  little.  "  Oh,  you  '11  like  her. 
She  's  great  fun — if  she  's  in  the  mood.  My  mother  and 
sister — I  had  them  call  on  her  in  London  last  spring — and 
they  took  a  great  fancy  to  her.  She  's  got  no  end  of 
money,  you  know — at  least  a  million  and  a  half — dollars, 
unfortunately.  Her  parents  were  Irish — her  father  made 
his  pile  in  the  waggon  business,  I  believe — but  she  's  as 
American  as  if  they  'd  crossed  over  in — what  was  it,  the 
'  Sunflower  '  ?  — no,  the  '  Mayflower.'  Marvelous  country 
for  assimilation,  that  America  is  !  You  remember  what  I 
told  you — it  's  put  such  a  mark  on  you  that  I  should 
never  have  dreamt  you  were  English." 

Thorpe  observed  his  companion,  through  a  blue  haze 
of  smoke,  in  silence.  This  insistence  upon  the  un-Knglish 
nature  of  the  effect  he  produced  was  not  altogether  grate 
ful  to  his  ears. 

"  The  other  one,"  continued  Plowden,  "  is  Lady  Cres- 
sage.  You  '11  be  interested  in  her — because  a  few  years 
ago  she  was  supposed  to  be  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
London.  She  married  a  shocking  bounder — he  would 


66  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

have  been  Duke  of  Glastonbury,  though,  it  he  had  lived 
— but  he  was  drowned,  and  she  was  left  poor  as  a  church 
mouse.  Oh  !  by  the  way  !  "  he  started  up,  with  a  gleam 
of  aroused  interest  on  his  face — "  it  did  n't  in  the  least 
occur  to  me.  Why,  she  's  a  daughter  of  our  General 
Kervick.  How  did  he  get  on  the  Board,  by  the  way  ? 
Where  did  you  pick  him  up  ?  " 

Thorpe  bent  his  brows  in  puzzled  lines.  "  Why,  you 
introduced  me  to  him  yourself,  did  n't  you  ?  "  he  asked, 
slowly. 

Plowden  seemed  unaffectedly  surprised  at  the  sugges 
tion,  as  he  turned  it  over  in  his  mind.  ' '  By  George  !  I 
think  yon  're  right,"  he  said.  "  I  'd  quite  forgotten  it. 
Of  course  I  did.  Let  me  see — oh  yes,  I  reconstruct  it 
readily  enough  now.  Poor  old  chappie — he  needs  all  he 
can  get.  He  was  bothering  her  about  money — that  was 
it,  I  remember  now — but  what  an  idiot  I  was  to  forget  it. 
But  what  I  was  saying — there  's  no  one  else  but  my 
mother  and  sister,  and  my  brother  Balder.  He  's  a 
youngster — twenty  or  thereabouts — and  he  purports  to  be 
reading  for  his  exams  for  the  Army.  If  they  opened  his 
head,  though,  I  doubt  if  they  'd  find  anything  but  cricket 
and  football,  unless  it  might  be  a  bit  of  golf.  Well — • 
that  's  the  party.  I  thought  you  might  like  to  have  a 
notion  of  them  in  advance.  If  you  've  finished  your 
cigarette  " — he  threw  his  own  into  the  grate,  and  rose  as 
he  spoke — ' '  we  may  as  well  be  moving  along.  By  the 
way,"  he  concluded,  as  they  walked  toward  the  door, 
"  I  've  an  idea  that  we  won't  say  anything,  just  at  the 
moment,  about  our  great  coup.  I  should  like  to  keep  it 
as  a  little  surprise — for  my  mother  and  sister,  you 
know. ' ' 

Some  two  hours  later,  Thorpe  found  the  leisure  and  the 
restored  equanimity  needful  for  a  dispassionate  survey  of 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  67 

his  surroundings.  He  had  become  temporarily  detached 
from  the  group  over  by  the  fireplace  in  the  big  drawing- 
room  and  was  for  the  first  time  that  evening  very  much 
at  his  ease.  It  was  all  much  simpler,  upon  experiment, 
than  he  had  feared.  He  stood  now  in  a  corner  of  the 
ornate  apartment,  whither  he  had  wandered  in  examining 
the  pictures  on  the  walls,  and  contemplated  with  serenity 
the  five  people  whom  he  had  left  behind  him.  He  was 
conscious  of  the  conviction  that  when  he  rejoined  them, 
it  would  be  on  a  new  footing  of  assured  equality.  He 
knew  now  the  exact  measure  of  everything. 

The  Hon.  Balder  Plowden — a  tall,  heavily-built  youth, 
with  enormous  shoulders  and  thick,  hard  hands,  and  pale 
straw-coloured  hair  and  brows  and  eyelashes  —  had 
amiably  sauntered  beside  him,  and  was  elucidating  for 
his  benefit  now,  in  slow,  halting  undertones,  some  un 
fathomable  mystery  connected  with  the  varying  attitude 
of  two  distinct  breeds  of  terriers  toward  rats.  Across  the 
room,  just  within  reach  of  the  flickering  ruddy  firelight 
from  the  hearth,  the  American  guest,  Miss  Madden,  was 
seated  at  the  piano,  playing  some  low  and  rather  doleful 
music.  Thorpe  bent  his  head,  and  assumed  an  air  of 
attention,  but  in  truth  he  listened  to  neither  the  Honour 
able  Balder  nor  the  piano.  His  thoughts  were  concen 
trated  jealously  upon  his  own  position  in  this  novel  setting. 
He  said  to  himself  that  it  was  all  right. 

Old  Lady  Plowden  had  seemed  to  like  him  from  the 
start.  The  genial,  if  somewhat  abstracted,  motherliness 
of  her  welcome  had  been,  indeed,  his  sheet  anchor  through 
out  the  evening.  She  had  not  once  failed  to  nod  her  head 
and  smile  and  twinkle  her  little  kind  eyes  through  their 
spectacles  at  him,  whenever  by  word  or  look  he  had 
addressed  her.  Nor  did  his  original  half-suspicion,  that 
this  was  her  manner  to  people  in  general,  justify  itself 


68  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

upon  observation.  She  was  civil,  even  excessively  civil, 
to  the  other  two  guests,  but  these  ladies  did  not  get 
the  same  eager  and  intent  smile  that  he  could  com 
mand.  He  reasoned  it  out  that  Plowden  must  have 
saiti  something  pleasant  to  his  mother  about  him — per 
haps  even  to  the  point  of  explaining  that  he  was  to  be 
the  architect  of  their  fortunes — but  he  did  not  like  to 
ascribe  all  her  hospitable  warmth  to  that.  It  was  dear  to 
him  to  believe  that  she  liked  him  on  his  own  merits — and 
he  did  believe  it,  as  his  softened  glance  rested  upon  her 
where  she  sat  almost  facing  him  in  her  padded,  wicker 
chair — small,  white-haired,  rosy-cheeked,  her  intelligent 
face  radiating  a  kind  of  alert  placidity  which  somehow 
made  him  feel  at  home. 

He  had  not  been  as  much  at  home  with  the  others. 
The  Honourable  Balder,  of  course,  did  n't  count ;  nobody 
paid  attention  to  him,  and  least  of  all  a  busy  Rubber 
King.  He  gave  not  much  more  heed  to  the  American — 
the  tall  young  woman  with  the  red  hair  and  the  million 
and  a  half  of  dollars.  She  was  plainly  a  visitor  like  him 
self,  not  at  all  identified  with  the  inner  life  of  the  house 
hold.  He  fancied,  moreover,  that  she  in  no  way  desired 
to  be  thus  identified.  She  seemed  to  carry  herself  with  a 
deliberate  aloofness  underlying  her  surface  amiability. 
When  he  had  spoken  his  few  words  with  her,  once  or 
twice,  he  had  got  this  effect  of  stony  reserve  close  beneath 
her  smile  and  smooth  words.  True,  this  might  mean  only 
that  she  felt  herself  out  of  her  element,  just  as  he  did— 
but  to  him,  really  it  did  not  matter  what  she  felt.  A  year 
ago — why,  yes,  even  a  fortnight  ago — tbe  golden  rumour 
of  millions  would  have  shone  round  hef  auburn  hair  in 
his  eyes  like  a  halo.  But  all  that  was  changed.  Calcu 
lated  in  a  solidified  currency,  her  reported  fo*  tune  shrank 
to  a  mere  three  hundred  thousand  pounds*  It  was  a  re- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  69 

spectable  sum  for  a  woman  to  have,  no  doubt,  but  it  did 
nothing  to  quicken  the  cool  indifference  with  which  he 
considered  her. 

The  two  other  young  women  were  different.  They  were 
seated  together  on  a  sofa,  so  placed  as  regarded  his  point 
of  view,  that  he  saw  only  in  part  the  shadowed  profiles 
of  the  faces  they  turned  toward  the  piano.  Although 
it  was  not  visible  to  him,  the  posture  of  their  shoulders 
told  him  that  they  were  listening  to  the  music  each  hold 
ing  the  other's  hand.  This  tacit  embrace  was  typical  in 
his  mind  of  the  way  they  hung  together,  these  two 
young  women.  It  had  been  forced  upon  his  perceptions 
all  the  evening,  that  this  fair-haired,  beautiful,  rather 
stately  Lady  Cressage,  and  the  small,  swarthy,  round- 
shouldered  daughter  of  the  house,  peering  through  her 
pince-nez  from  under  unduly  thick  black  brows,  formed  a 
party  of  their  own.  Their  politeness  toward  him  had 
been  as  identical  in  all  its  little  shades  of  distance  and  re 
servation  as  if  they  had  been  governed  from  a  single  brain- 
centre.  It  would  be  unfair  to  them  to  assume  from  their 
manner  that  they  disliked  him,  or  were  even  unfavourably 
impressed  by  him.  The  finesse  of  that  manner  was  far 
too  delicate  a  thing  to  call  into  use  such  rough  characteri 
zations.  It  was  rather  their  action  as  a  unit  which  piqued 
his  interest.  He  thought  he  could  see  that  they  united 
upon  a  common  demeanour  toward  the  American  girl, 
although  of  course  they  knew  her  much  better  than  they 
knew  him.  It  was  not  even  clear  to  him  that  there  were 
not  traces  of  this  combination  in  their  tone  toward  Plow- 
den  and  the  Honourable  Balder.  The  bond  between  them 
had  twisted  in  it  strands  of  social  exclusiveness,  and 
strands  of  sex  sympathy. 

He  did  not  analyze  all  this  with  much  closeness  in  his 
thoughts,  but  the  impressions  of  it  were  distinct  enough 


70  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

to  him.  He  rather  enjoyed  these  impressions  than  other 
wise.  Women  had  not  often  interested  him  consecutively 
to  any  large  degree,  either  in  detail  or  as  a  whole.  He 
had  formulated,  among  other  loose  general  notions  of 
them,  however,  the  idea  that  their  failure  to  stand  by  one 
another  was  one  of  their  gravest  weaknesses.  This  pro 
position  rose  suddenly  now  in  his  mind,  and  claimed  his 
attention.  It  became  apparent  to  him,  all  at  once,  that 
his  opinions  about  women  would  be  henceforth  invested 
with  a  new  importance.  He  had  scarcely  before  in  his 
life  worn  evening  dress  in  a  domestic  circle  which  included 
ladies — certainly  never  in  the  presence  of  such  certificated 
and  hall-marked  ladies  as  these.  His  future,  however, 
was  to  be  filled  with  experiences  of  this  nature.  Already, 
after  this  briefest  of  ventures  into  the  new  life,  he  found 
fresh  conceptions  ol  the  great  subject  springing  up  in  his 
thoughts.  In  this  matter  of  women  sticking  together,  for 
example — here  before  his  eyes  was  one  of  the  prettiest  in 
stances  of  it  imaginable.  As  he  looked  again  at  the  two 
figures  on  the  sofa,  so  markedly  unlike  in  outward  aspect, 
yet  knit  to  each  other  in  such  a  sisterly  bond,  he  found 
the  spectacle  really  touching. 

I,ady  Cressage  had  inclined  her  classic  profile  even 
more  toward  the  piano.  Thorpe  was  not  stirred  at  all  by 
the  music,  but  the  spirit  of  it  as  it  was  reflected  upon  this 
beautiful  facial  outline — sensitive,  high-spirited,  some 
what  sad  withal — appealed  to  something  in  him.  He 
moved  forward  cautiously,  noiselessly,  a  dozen  restricted 
paces,  and  halted  again  at  the  corner  of  a  table.  It  was 
a  relief  that  the  Honourable  Balder,  though  he  followed 
along,  respected  now  his  obvious  wish  for  silence.  But 
neither  Balder  nor  anyone  else  could  guess  that  the  music 
said  less  than  nothing  to  his  ears — that  it  was  the  face  - 
that  had  beckoned  him  to  advance. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  ?I 

Covertly,  with  momentary  assurances  that  no  one  ob 
served  him,  he  studied  this  face  and  mused  upon  it.  The 
white  candle-light  on  the  shining  wall  beyond  threw 
everything  into  a  soft,  uniform  shadow,  this  side  of  the 
thread  of  dark  tracery  which  outlined  forehead  and  nose 
and  lips  and  chin.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  eyes  were 
closed,  as  in  reverie  ;  he  could  not  be  sure. 

So  she  would  have  been  a  Duchess  if  her  husband  had 
lived  !  He  said  to  himself  that  he  had  never  seen  before, 
or  imagined,  a  face  which  belonged  so  indubitably  beneath 
a  tiara  of  strawberry  leaves  in  diamonds.  The  pride  and 
grace  and  composure,  yes,  and  melancholy,  of  the  great 
lady — they  were  all  there  in  their  supreme  expression. 
And  yet — why,  she  was  no  great  lady  at  all.  She  was 
the  daughter  of  his  old  General  Kervick — the  necessitous 
and  haughtily-humble  old  military  gentleman,  with  the 
grey  moustache  and  the  premature  fur  coat,  who  did  what 
he  was  told  on  the  Board  without  a  question,  for  a  pitiful 
three  hundred  a  year.  Yes — she  was  his  daughter,  and 
she  also  was  poor.  Plowden  had  said  so. 

Why  had  Plowden,  by  the  way,  been  so  keen  about 
relieving  her  from  her  father's  importunities  ?  He  must 
have  had  it  very  much  at  heart,  to  have  invented  the 
roundabout  plan  of  getting  the  old  gentleman  a  director 
ship.  But  no — there  was  nothing  in  that.  Why,  Plowden 
had  even  forgotten  that  it  was  he  who  suggested  Kervick' s 
name.  It  would  have  been  his  sister,  of  course,  who  was 
evidently  such  chums  with  I^ady  Cressage,  who  gave  him 
the  hint  to  help  the  General  to  something  if  he  could. 
And  when  you  came  to  think  of  it,  these  aristocrats  and! 
military  men  and  so  on,  had  no  other  notion  of  making 
money  save  by  directorships.  Clearly,  that  was  the  way* 
of  it.  Plowden  had  remembered  Kervick' s  name,  when 
the  chance  arose  to  give  the  old  boy  a  leg  up,  and  then 


?2  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

had  clean  forgotten  the  circumstance.  The  episode  rather 
increased  his  liking  for  Plowden. 

He  glanced  briefly,  under  the  impulse  of  his  thought, 
to  where  the  peer  sat,  or  rather  sprawled,  in  a  big  low 
chair  before  the  fire.  He  was  so  nearly  recumbent  in  it, 
indeed,  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  of  him  but  an 
elbow,  and  two  very  trim  legs  extended  to  the  brass 
fender.  Thorpe's  gaze  reverted  automatically  to  the  face 
of  General  Kervick's  daughter.  He  wondered  if  she 
knew  about  the  Company,  and  about  him,  and  about  his 
ability  to  solidify  to  any  extent  her  father's  financial  posi 
tion.  Even  more,  upon  reflection,  he  wondered  whether 
she  was  very  fond  of  her  father  ;  would  she  be  extremely 
grateful  to  one  who  should  render  him  securely  comfort 
able  for  life  ? 

.  Miss  Madden  rose  from  the  piano  before  Thorpe  noted 
that  the  music  had  ceased.  There  came  from  the  others 
a  soft  but  fervent  chorus  of  exclamations,  the  sincerity 
and  enthusiasm  of  which  made  him  a  little  ashamed.  He 
had  evidently  been  deaf  to  something  that  deeply  moved 
the  rest.  Even  Balder  made  remarks  which  seemed  to  be 
regarded  as  apposite. 

1 '  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Lady  Cressage,  with  obvious 
feeling.  "  I  don't  know  when  anything  has  touched  me 
so  much." 

"  Old  Danish  songs  that  I  picked  up  on  the  quai  in 
Paris  for  a  franc  or  two,"  replied  Miss  Madden.  "  I 
arranged  and  harmonized  them — and,  oddly  enough,  the 
result  is  rather  Keltic,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  We  are  all  of  us  Kelts  in  our  welcome  to  music — and 
musicians — like  this,"  affirmed  Lord  Plowden,  who  had 
scrambled  to  his  feet. 

With  sudden  resolution,  Thorpe  moved  forward  and 
joined  the  conversation. 


CHAPTER  VI 

'"FHORPE'S  life-long  habit  of  early  rising  brought  him 
1  downstairs  next  morning  before  anybody  else  in  the 
house,  apparently,  was  astir.  At  all  events,  he  saw  no 
one  in  either  the  hall  or  the  glass  vestibule,  as  he  wandered 
about.  Both  doors  were  wide  open,  however,  to  the  mild, 
damp  morning  air.  He  found  on  one  of  the  racks  a  cap 
.that  was  less  uncomiortable  than  the  others,  and  sauntered 
forth  to  look  about  him. 

His  nerves  were  by  no  means  in  so  serene  a  state  as  his 
reason  told  him  they  ought  to  be.  The  disquieting  im 
pression  of  bad  dreams  hung  about  him.  The  waking 
hour — always  an  evil  time  for  him  in  these  latter  days  of 
anxiety — had  been  this  morning  a  peculiarly  depressing 
affair.  It  had  seemed  to  him,  in  the  first  minutes  of  re 
viving  consciousness,  that  he  was  a  hopelessly  ruined  and 
discredited  man;  the  illusion  of  disaster  had  been,  indeed, 
so  complete  and  vivid  that,  even  now,  more  than  an  hour 
later,  he  had  not  shaken  off  its  effects. 

He  applied  his  mental  energies,  as  he  strolled  along  the 
gravel  paths,  to  the  task  of  reassuring  himself.  There 
were  still  elements  of  chance  in  the  game,  of  course,  but 
it  was  easy  enough,  here  in  the  daylight,  to  demonstrate 
that  they  had  been  cut  down  to  a  minimum — that  it  was 
nonsense  to  borrow  trouble  about  them.  He  reviewed 
the  situation  in  "painstaking  detail,  and  at  every  point  it 
was  all  right,  or  as  nearly  all  right  as  any  human  business 
could  be.  He  scolded  himself  sharply  for  this  foolish 

73 


74  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

susceptibility  to  the  intimidation  of  nightmares.  "  Look 
at  Plowden  !  "  he  bade  his  dolorous  spirit.  "  See  how 
easy  he  takes  things." 

It  was  undeniable  that  L,ord  Plowden  took  things  very 
easily  indeed.  He  had  talked  with  eloquence  and  feeling 
about  the  miseries  and  humiliations  of  a  peerage  inade 
quately  endowed  with  money,  but  no  traces  of  his  sufferings 
were  visible  to  Thorpe's  observant  eye.  The  nobleman 
himself  looked  the  very  image  of  contented  prosperity 
— handsome,  buoyant,  light-hearted,  and,  withal,  the  best- 
groomed  man  in  London.  And  this  ancestral  home  of 
his — or  of  his  mother's,  since  he  seemed  to  insist  upon 
the  distinction — where  were  its  signs  of  a  stinted  income  ? 
The  place  was  overrun  with  servants.  There  was  a  horse 
which  covered  a  distance  of  something  like  two  miles  in 
eight  minutes.  Inside  and  out,  Hadlow  House  suggested 
nothing  but  assured  plenty.  Yet  its  master  told  the  most 
unvarying  tales  of  poverty,  and  no  doubt  they  were  in 
one  sense  true.  What  he  wished  to  fix  his  mind  upon, 
and  to  draw  strength  for  himself  from,  was  the  gay 
courage  with  which  these  Plowdens  behaved  as  if  they 
were  rich. 

The  grounds  at  the  front  of  the  house,  hemmed  in  by 
high  hedges  and  trees  from  what  seemed  to  be  a  public 
road  beyond,  were  fairly  spacious,  but  the  sleek  decorum 
of  their  arrangement,  while  it  pleased  him,  was  scarcely 
interesting.  He  liked  better  to  study  the  house  itself, 
which  in  the  daylight  revealed  itself  as  his  ideal  of 
what  a  historic  English  country-house  of  the  minor  class 
should  be. 

There  had  been  a  period  in  his  youth  when  architecture 
had  attracted  him  greatly  as  offering  a  congenial  and 
lucrative  career.  Not  much  remained  to  him  now  of  the 
classifications  and  phraseology  which  he  had  gone  to  the 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  75 

trouble  of  memorizing,  in  that  far-off  time,  but  he  still 
looked  at  buildings  with  a  kind  of  professional  conscious 
ness.  Hadlow  House  said  intelligible  things  to  him,  and 
he  was  pleased  with  himself  for  understanding  them.  It 
was  not  new  in  any  part,  apparently,  but  there  was  nothing 
pretentious  in  its  antiquity.  It  had  never  been  a  castle, 
or  a  fortified  residence.  No  violent  alteration  in  habits  or 
needs  distinguished  its  present  occupants  from  its  original 
builders.  It  had  been  planned  and  reared  as  a  home  for 
gentle  people,  at  some  not-too-remote  date  when  it  was 
already  possible  for  gentle  people  to  have  homes,  without 
fighting  to  defend  them.  One  could  fancy  that  its  calm 
and  infinitely  comfortable  history  had  never  been  ruffled 
from  that  day  to  this.  He  recalled  having  heard  it  men 
tioned  the  previous  evening  that  the  house  stood  upon  the 
site  of  an  old  monastery.  No  doubt  that  accounted  for  its 
being  built  in  a  hollow,  with  the  ground-floor  on  the  ab 
solute  level  of  the  earth  outside.  The  monks  had  always 
chosen  these  low-lying  sheltered  spots  for  their  cloisters. 

Why  should  they  have  done  so  ?  he  wondered — and 
then  came  to  a  sudden  mental  stop,  absorbed  in  a  some 
what  surprised  contemplation  of  a  new  version  of  himself. 
He  was  becoming  literary,  historical,  bookish  !  His  mind 
had  begun  to  throw  open  again,  to  abstract  thoughts  and 
musings,  its  long-closed  doors.  He  had  read  and  dreamed 
so  much  as  a  lad,  in  the  old  book-shop  !  For  many  years 
that  boyhood  of  eager  concern  in  the  printed  page  had 
seemed  to  him  to  belong  to  somebody  else.  Now,  all  at 
once,  it  came  back  to  him  as  his  own  possession  ;  he  felt  \ 
that  he  could  take  up  books  again  where  he  had  dropped  } 
them,  perhaps  even  with  the  old  rapt,  intent  zest. 

Visions  rose  before  him  of  the  magnificent  library  he 
would  gather  for  himself.  And  it  should  be  in  no  wise 
for  show — the  gross  ostentation  of  the  unlettered  parvenu 


?6  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

— but  a  genuine  library,  which  should  minister  to  his  own 
individual  culture.  The  thought  took  instant  hold  upon 
his  interest.  By  that  road,  his  progress  to  the  goal  of 
gentility  would  be  smooth  and  simple.  He  seemed  not 
to  have  reasoned  it  out  to  himself  in  detail  before,  but 
now,  at  all  events,  he  saw  his  way  clearly  enough.  Why 
should  he  be  tormented  with  doubts  and  misgivings  about 
himself,  as  if  he  had  come  out  of  the  gutter  ? 

Why  indeed  ?  He  had  passed  through  —  and  with 
credit,  too — one  of  the  great  public  schools  of  Kngland. 
He  had  been  there  on  a  footing  of  perfect  equality,  so  far 
as  he  saw,  with  the  sons  of  aristocratic  families  or  of  great 
City  potentates.  And  as  to  birth,  he  had  behind  him 
three  generations  at  least  of  scholarly  men,  men  who 
knew  the  contents,  as  well  as  the  commercial  value,  of 
the  books  they  handled. 

His  grandfather  had  been  a  man  of  note  in  his  calling. 
The  tradition  of  Lord  Althorp's  confidence  in  him,  and 
of  how  he  requited  it  by  securing  Caxton's  "  Golden 
Legend ' '  for  the  library  of  that  distinguished  collector, 
under  the  very  nose  of  his  hot  rival,  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough,  was  tenderly  cherished  as  an  heirloom  in  the  old 
shop.  And  Thorpe's  father,  too,  though  no  such  single 
achievement  crowned  his  memory,  had  been  the  adviser 
and,  as  one  might  say,  the  friend  of  many  notable  writers 
and  patrons  of  literature.  The  son  of  such  forbears 
needed  only  money  to  be  recognized  by  everybody  as  a 
gentleman. 

On  his  mother's  side,  now  that  he  thought  of  it,  there 
was  something  perhaps  better  still  than  a  heritage  of 
librarians'  craft  and  tastes.  His  mother's  maiden  name 
was  Stormont,  and  he  remembered  well  enough  the 
solemnity  with  which  she  had  always  alluded  to  the  fact, 
in  the  course  oi  domestic  discussions.  Who  the  Stor- 


'TWO   HORSES  WITH    RIDERS,  ADVANCING  AT  A   BRISK  CANTER."— 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  77 

monts  were  he  could  not  recall  that  he  had  ever  learned, 
but  his  mother  had  been  very  clear  indeed  about  their 
superiority  to  the  usual  ruck  of  people.  He  would  ask 
his  sister  whether  she  knew  anything  about  them.  In 
the  meantime  there  was  no  denying  that  Stormont  was  a 
fine-sounding  name.  He  reflected  that  it  was  his  own 
middle  name — and,  on  the  instant,  fancy  engraved  for  him 
a  card-plate  on  which  appeared  the  legend — "  Mr.  Stor 
mont  Thorpe. ' ' 

It  was  an  inspiration  !  * '  Joel ' '  he  had  not  used  for  so 
many  years  that  now,  after  six  months'  familiarity  with  it 
on  his  sister's  lips,  he  could  not  get  accustomed  to  it. 
The  colourless  and  non-committal  style  of  "  J.  S.  Thorpe," 
under  which  he  had  lived  so  long,  had  been  well  enough 
for  the  term  of  his  exile — the  weary  time  of  obscure  toil 
and  suspense.  But  now,  in  this  sunburst  of  smiling  for 
tune,  when  he  had  achieved  the  right  to  a  name  of  dis 
tinction — here  it  was  ready  to  his  hand.  A  fleeting 
question  as  to  whether  he  should  carry  the  "  J  "  along 
as  an  initial  put  itself  to  his  mind.  He  decided  vigor 
ously  against  it.  He  had  always  had  a  prejudice  against 
men  who,  in  the  transatlantic  phrase,  parted  either  their 
hair  or  their  names  in  the  middle. 

He  had  made  his  unheeding  way  past  the  house  to  the 
beginning  of  the  avenue  of  trees,  which  he  remembered 
from  the  previous  evening's  drive.  To  his  right,  an  open 
space  of  roadway  led  off  in  the  direction  of  the  stables. 
As  he  hesitated,  in  momentary  doubt  which  course  to 
take,  the  sound  of  hoofs  in  the  avenue  caught  his  ear,  and 
he  stood  still.  In  a  moment  there  came  into  view,  round 
a  curve  in  the  leafy  distance,  two  horses  with  riders,  ad 
vancing  at  a  brisk  canter.  Soon  he  perceived  that  the 
riders  were  ladies  ;  they  drew  rein  as  they  approached 
him,  and  then  it  was  to  be  seen  that  they  were  the  pair 


7§  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

he  had  judged  to  be  such  close  friends  last  night— Lady 
Cressage  and  the  daughter  of  the  house. 

They  smiled  and  nodded  down  at  him,  as  he  lifted  his 
cap  and  bowed.  Their  cheeks  were  glowing  and  their 
eyes  sparkling  with  the  exhilaration  of  their  ride.  Even 
the  Hon.  Winifred  looked  comely  and  distinguished  in 
his  eyes,  under  the  charm  of  this  heightened  vivacity. 
She  seemed  to  carry  herself  better  in  the  saddle  than  she 
did  out  of  it  ;  the  sweep  of  her  habit  below  the  stirrup 
lent  dignity  to  her  figure. 

But  her  companion,  whose  big  chestnut  mount  was 
pacing  slowly  toward  the  stepping-block — how  should 
he  bring  within  the  compass  of  thought  the  impressions 
he  had  had  of  her  as  she  passed  ?  There  seemed  to  have 
been  no  memory  in  his  mind  to  prepare  him  for  the  beauty 
of  the  picture  she  had  made.  Slender,  erect,  exquisitely- 
tailored,  she  had  gone  by  like  some  queen  in  a  pageant, 
gracious  yet  unapproachable.  He  stared  after  her,  mutely 
bewildered  at  the  effect  she  produced  upon  him — until  he 
saw  that  a  groom  had  run  from  the  stable-yard,  and  was 
helping  the  divinity  to  dismount.  The  angry  thought 
that  he  might  have  done  this  himself  rose  within  him — 
but  there  followed  swiftly  enough  the  answering  convic 
tion  that  he  lacked  the  courage.  He  did  not  even  advance 
to  proffer  his  services  to  the  other  young  lady,  while  there 
was  still  time.  The  truth  was,  he  admitted  ruefully  to 
himself,  they  unnerved  him. 

He  had  talked  freely  enough  to  them,  or  rather  to  the 
company  of  which  they  made  part,  the  previous  evening. 
There  had  been  an  hour  or  more,  indeed,  before  the  party 
broke  up,  in  which  he  had  borne  the  lion's  share  of  the 
talk — and  they  had  appeared  as  frankly  entertained  as  the 
others.  In  fact,  when  he  recalled  the  circle  of  faces  to 
which  he  had  addressed  his  monologue  of  reminiscences — • 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  79 

curious  experiences  and  adventures  in  Java  and  the  Argen 
tine,  in  Brazil  and  the  Antilles  and  Mexico  and  the  far 
West — it  was  in  the  face  of  Lady  Cressage  that  he  seemed 
to  discern  the  most  genuine  interest. 

Why  should  she  frighten  him,  then,  by  daylight  ?  The 
whimsical  theory  that  the  wine  at  dinner  had  given  him 
a  spurious  courage  occurred  to  him.  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders  at  it,  and,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  turned 
toward  the  stables. 

The  stable-yard  is,  from  some  points  of  view,  the  pret 
tiest  thing  about  Hadlow.  There  is  a  big,  uneven,  grass- 
grown  space,  in  the  centre  of  which,  from  a  slight  mound, 
springs  an  aged  oak  of  tremendous  girth  and  height.  All 
around  this  enclosure  are  buildings  of  the  same  pale  yel 
lowish  brick  as  the  mansion  itself,  but  quaintly  differing 
one  from  another  in  design  and  size.  Stables,  carriage- 
houses,  kennels,  a  laundry,  a  brewery,  and  half  a  dozen 
structures  the  intention  of  which  is  now  somewhat  uncer 
tain — some  flat-topped,  some  gabled,  others  with  turrets, 
or  massive  grouped  chimneys,  or  overhanging  timbered 
upper  stories — form  round  this  unkempt,  shadowed  green 
a  sort  of  village,  with  a  communal  individuality  of  its  own. 

A  glance  shows  its  feudal  relation  to,  and  dependence 
upon,  the  great  house  behind  which  it  nestles  ;  some  of 
the  back-kitchens  and  offices  of  this  great  house,  indeed, 
straggle  out  till  they  meet  and  merge  themselves  into  this 
quadrangle.  None  the  less,  it  presents  to  the  enquiring 
gaze  a  specific  character,  of  as  old  a  growth,  one  might 
think,  as  the  oak  itself.  Here  servants  have  lived,  it  may 
be,  since  man  first  learned  the  trick  of  setting  his  foot  on 
his  brother's  neck.  Plainly  enough,  the  monks'  servants 
lived  and  worked  here  ;  half  the  buildings  on  the  side 
nearest  the  house  belong  to  their  time,  and  one  of  them 
still  bears  a  partially-defaced  coat  of  arms  that  must  have 


8o  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

belonged  to  au  Abbot.  And  when  lay  lord  succ«ad*d 
cleric,  only  the  garb  and  vocabulary  of  servitude  wera 
altered  in  this  square.  Its  population  crossed  themselves 
less,  and  worked  much  harder,  but  they  remained  in  a 
world  of  their  own,  adjacent  and  subject  to  the  world  of 
their  masters,  yet  separated  from  it  by  oh  !  such  countless 
and  unthinkable  distances. 

Thorpe  sauntered  along  the  side  of  the  stables.  He 
counted  three  men  and  a  boy  who  visibly  belonged  to 
this  department.  The  dog-cart  of  the  previous  evening 
had  been  run  out  upon  the  brick-pavement  which  drained 
the  stables,  and  glistened  with  expensive  smartness  now 
beneath  the  sponge  of  one  of  the  hostlers.  Under  cover, 
he  discerned  two  other  carriages,  and  there  seemed  to  be 
at  least  half  a  dozen  horses.  The  men  who,  in  the  half 
gloom  of  the  loose-boxes,  were  busy  grooming  these  ani 
mals  made  a  curious  whistling  noise  as  they  worked. 
Everybody  in  the  yard  touched  a  forelock  to  him  as  he 
passed. 

From  this  quaint,  old-world  enclosure  he  wandered  at 
his  leisure,  through  an  open  gate  in  the  wall  at  the  back, 
into  the  gardens  behind  the  house.  There  was  not  much 
in  the  way  of  flowers  to  look  at,  but  he  moved  about  quite 
unconscious  of  any  deprivation.  A  cluster  of  greenhouses, 
massed  against  the  southern  side  of  the  mansion,  attracted 
his  listless  fancy,  and  he  walked  toward  what  appeared  to 
be  an  entrance  to  them.  The  door  was  locked,  but  he 
found  another  further  on  which  opened  to  his  hand.  The 
air  was  very  hot  and  moist  inside,  and  the  place  was  so 
filled  with  broad-leaved,  umbrageous  tropical  plants  that 
he  had  to  stoop  to  make  his  way  through  to  the  end.  The 
next  house  had  a  more  tolerable  atmosphere,  and  con 
tained  some  blossoms  to  which  he  gave  momentary  atten 
tion.  In  the  third  house,  through  the  glass-door,  he  could 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  8 1 

see  a  man — evidently  a  gardener — lifting  some  pots  to  a 
shelf  overhead. 

The  thought  occurred  to  him  that  by  entering  into  con 
versation  with  this  man,  he  might  indirectly  obtain  a  hint 
as  to  the  usual  breakfast-hour  at  Hadlow.  It  was  now 
nearly  ten  o'clock,  and  he  was  getting  very  hungry. 
Would  they  not  ring  a  bell,  or  sound  a  gong,  or  some 
thing  ?  he  wondered.  Perhaps  there  had  been  some  such 
summons,  and  he  had  not  heard  it.  It  might  be  the  in 
telligent  thing  for  him  to  return  to  the  house,  at  all 
events,  and  sit  in  the  hall  where  the  servants  could  see 
him,  in  case  the  meal  was  in  progress. 

Looking  idly  through  the  glass  at  the  gardener,  mean 
while,  it  suddenly  dawned  upon  him  that  the  face  and 
figure  were  familiar.  He  stared  more  intently  at  the  man, 
casting  about  in  his  memory  for  a  clue  to  his  identity.  It 
came  to  him  that  the  person  he  had  in  mind  was  a  fellow 
named  Gafferson,  who  had  kept  an  impoverished  and 
down-at-the-heels  sort  of  hotel  and  general  store  on  the 
road  from  Belize  to  Boon  Town,  in  British  Honduras. 
Yes,  it  undoubtedly  was  Gafferson.  What  on  earth  was 
he  doing  here  ? 

Thorpe  gave  but  brief  consideration  to  this  problem.  It 
was  of  more  immediate  importance  to  recall  the  circum 
stances  of  his  contact  with  the  man.  He  had  made  Gaffer- 
son's  poor  shanty  of  an  hotel  his  headquarters  for  the  better 
part  of  a  month — the  base  of  supplies  from  which  he  made 
numerous  prospecting  tours  into  the  mountains  of  the  in 
terior.  Had  he  paid  his  bill  on  leaving  ?  Yes,  there  was 
no  doubt  about  that.  He  could  even  recall  a  certain  pity 
for  the  unbusiness-like  scale  of  charges,  and  the  lack  of 
perception  of  opportunity,  which  characterized  the  bill  in 
question.  He  remembered  now  his  impression  that  Gaffer 
son  would  never  do  any  good.  It  would  be  interesting  to 


82  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

know  what  kind  of  an  impression  he,  in  turn,  had  pro 
duced  on  his  thriftless  host.  At  any  rate,  there  was  no 
good  reason  why  he  should  not  find  out.  He  opened  the 
door  and  went  in. 

The  gardener  barely  looked  up  from  his  occupation, 
and  drew  aside  to  let  the  newcomer  pass  with  no  sign  of  a 
gesture  toward  his  cap.  Thorpe  halted,  and  tried  to  look 
at  the  pots  on  the  staging  as  if  he  knew  about  such  things. 

:<  What  are  you  doing?"  he  asked,  in  the  tentative 
tone  of  one  who  is  in  no  need  of  information,  but  desires 
to  be  affable. 

"  Drying  off  the  first  lot  of  gloxinias,"  answered  the 
other.  "  Some  people  put  Jeni  on  their  sides,  but  I  like 
*em  upright,  close  to  the  glass.  It  stands  to  reason,  if 
you  think  about  it." 

"  Why,  certainly,"  said  Thorpe,  with  conviction.  In 
his  mind  he  contrasted  the  independence  of  Gafferson's 
manner  with  the  practised  servility  of  the  stable-yard — 
and  thought  that  he  liked  it — and  then  was  not  so  sure. 
He  perceived  that  there  was  no  recognition  of  him.  The 
gardener,  as  further  desultory  conversation  about  his  work 
progressed,  looked  his  interlocutor  full  in  the  face,  but 
with  a  placid,  sheep-like  gaze  which  seemed  to  be  entirely 
insensible  to  variations  in  the  human  species. 

"  How  did  you  ever  get  back  here  to  England  ?  "  Thorpe 
was  emboldened  to  ask  at  last.  In  comment  upon  the 
other's  stare  of  puzzled  enquiry,  he  went  on  :  "  You  're 
Gafferson,  are  n't  you  ?  I  thought  so.  When  I  last  saw 
you,  you  were  running  a  sort  of  half-way  house,  t'  other 
side  of  Belize.  That  was  in  '  90. " 

Gafferson — a  thick-set,  squat  man  of  middle  age,  with  a 
straggling  reddish  beard — turned  upon  him  a  tranquil  but 
uninformed  eye.  "  I  suppose  you  would  have  been  stop 
ping  at  Government  House,"  he  remarked.  <(  That  was 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  83 

in  Sir  Roger  Goldsworthy's  time.  They  used  to  come 
out  often  to  see  my  flowers.  And  so  you  remembered  my 
name.  I  suppose  it  was  because  of  the  Gaffersoniana 
hybrids.  There  was  a  good  bit  in  the  papers  about  them 
last  spring." 

Thorpe  nodded  an  assent  which  it  seemed  better  not  to 
put  into  words.  "  Well,  it  beats  all,"  he  mused  aloud. 
"  Why,  man,  there 's  gold  in  those  mountains!  You  had 
an  inside  track  on  prospecting,  placed  as  you  were.  And 
there  's  cocoa — and  some  day  they  '11  coin  money  in  rub 
ber,  too.  All  that  country  's  waiting  for  is  better  com 
munications.  And  you  were  on  the  spot,  and  knew  all 
the  lay  of  the  land — and  yet  here  you  are  back  in  Kng- 
land,  getting  so  much  a  month  for  messing  about  in  the 
mud." 

He  saw  swiftly  that  his  reflections  had  carried  him  be 
yond  his  earlier  limit,  and  with  rapidity  decided  upon 
frankness.  ' '  No,  I  was  n't  in  the  Governor's  outfit  at  all. 
I  was  looking  for  gold  then — with  occasionally  an  eye  on 
rubber.  I  stopped  at  your  place.  Don't  you  remember  me  ? 
My  name  's  Thorpe.  I  had  a  beard  then.  Why,  man,  you 
and  one  of  your  niggers  were  with  me  three  or  four 
days  once,  up  on  the  ridge  beyond  the  Burnt  Hills — why, 
you  remember,  the  nigger  was  from  San  Domingo,  and  he 
was  forever  bragging  about  the  San  Domingo  peppers,  and 
saying  those  on  the  mainland  had  n't  enough  strength  to 
make  a  baby  wrinkle  his  nose,  and  you  found  a  pepper 
coming  through  the  swamp,  and  you  tipped  me  the  wink, 
and  you  handed  that  pepper  to  the  nigger,  and  it  damned 
near  killed  him.  Hell  !  You  must  remember  that  !  " 

"  That  would  have  been  the  Chavica  pertusum"  said 
Gafferson,  thoughtfully.  He  seemed  to  rouse  himself  to 
an  interest  in  the  story  itself  with  some  difficulty.  ' '  Yes 
— I  remember  it,"  he  admitted,  finally.  "  I  should  n't 


84  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

have  known  you  though.  I  'm  the  worst  in  the  world 
about  remembering  people.  It  seems  to  be  growing  on 
me.  I  notice  that  when  I  go  up  to  London  to  the  shows, 
I  don't  remember  the  men  that  I  had  the  longest  talks 
with  the  time  before.  Once  you  get  wrapped  up  in  your 
flowers,  you  've  got  no  room  in  your  head  for  anything 
else — that  's  the  way  of  it." 

Thorpe  considered  him  with  a  ruminating  eye.  "  So 
this  is  the  sort  of  thing  you  really  like,  eh  ?  You  'd 
rather  be  doing  this,  eh  ?  than  making  your  pile  in  log 
wood  and  mahogany  out  there,  or  floating  a  gold  mine  ?  " 

Gafferson  answered  quite  simply  :  "  I  was  n't  the  kind 
to  ever  make  a  pile.  I  got  led  into  going  out  there  when 
I  was  a  youngster,  and  there  did  n't  seem  to  be  any  good 
in  trying  to  get  back,  but  I  was  n't  making  more  than  a 
bare  living  when  you  were  there,  and  after  that  I  did  n't 
even  do  that  much.  It  took  me  a  good  many  years  to  find 
out  what  my  real  fancy  was.  I  hated  my  hotel  and  my 
store,  but  I  was  crazy  about  my  garden.  Finally  an 
American  gentleman  came  along  one  day,  and  he  put  up 
at  my  place,  and  he  saw  that  I  was  as  near  ruined  as  they 
make  'em,  and  he  says  to  me,  '  You  're  no  good  to  run  a 
hotel,  nor  yet  a  store,  and  this  aint  your  country  for  a 
cent.  What  you  're  born  for  is  to  grow  flowers.  You 
can't  afford  to  do  it  here,  because  nobody  '11  pay  you  for 
it,  but  you  gather  up  your  seeds  and  roots  and  so  on,  and 
come  along  with  me  to  Atlanta,  Georgia,  and  I  '11  put  fat 
on  your  bones.' 

"  That  's  what  he  said  to  me,  and  I  took  him  at  his 
word,  and  I  was  with  him  two  years,  and  then  I  thought 
I  'd  like  to  come  to  England,  arid  since  then  I  've  worked 
my  way  up  here,  till  now  I  take  a  Royal  Horticultural 
medal  regular,  and  there  's  a  clematis  with  salmon- 
coloured  bars  that  '11  be  in  the  market  next  spring  that  '* 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  85 

aamed  after  my  master.  And  what  could  I  ask  mor*  'm 
that?" 

' '  Quite  right, ' '  said  Thorpe.  ' '  What  time  do  they  have 
breakfast  here  ?" 

The  gardener's  round,  phlegmatic,  florid  countenance 
had  taken  on  a  mild  glow  of  animation  during  his  narra 
tive.  It  relapsed  into  lethargy  at  the  advent  of  this  new 
topic. 

"  It  seems  to  me  they  eat  at  all  hours,"  he  said.  "  But 
if  you  want  to  see  his  Lordship,"  he  went  on,  consider 
ing,  "  about  noon  would  be  your  best  time." 

"  See  his  Lordship  !  "  repeated  Thorpe,  with  an  im 
patient  grin.  "  Why  I  'm  a  guest  here  in  the  house. 
All  I  want  is  something  to  eat. ' ' 

"  A  guest,"  Gafferson  repeated  in  turn,  slowly.  There 
was  nothing  unpleasant  in  the  intonation,  and  Thorpe's 
sharp  glance  failed  to  detect  any  trace  of  offensive  inten 
tion  in  his  companion's  fatuous  visage.  Yet  it  seemed  to 
pass  between  the  two  men  that  Gafferson  was  surprised, 
and  that  there  were  abundant  grounds  for  his  sur 
prise. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Thorpe,  with  as  much  nonchalance 
as  he  could  summon,  "  your  master  is  one  of  my  directors. 
I  've  taken  a  fancy  to  him,  and  I  'm  going  to  make  a  rich 
man  of  him.  He  was  keen  about  my  seeing  his  place 
here,  and  kept  urging  me  to  come,  and  so  finally  I  've  got 
away  over  Sunday  to  oblige  him.  By  the  way — I  shall 
buy  an  estate  in  the  country  as  soon  as  the  right  thing 
offers,  and  I  shall  want  to  set  up  no  end  of  gardens  and 
greenhouses  and  all  that.  I  see  that  I  could  n't  come  to 
a  better  man  than  you  for  advice.  I  daresay  I  '11  put  the 
whole  arrangement  of  it  in  your  hands.  You  'd  like  that, 
would  n't  you  ?  " 

' '  Whatever  his  Lordship  agrees  to, ' '  the  gardener  re- 


86  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

plied,  sententiously.  He  turned  to  the  staging,  and  took 
up  one  of  the  pots. 

Thorpe  swung  on  his  heel,  and  moved  briskly  toward 
the  further  door,  which  he  could  see  opened  upon  the 
lawn.  He  was  conscious  of  annoyance  with  this  moon 
faced,  dawdling  Gafferson,  who  had  been  afforded  such  a 
splendid  chance  of  profiting  by  an  old  acquaintanceship — 
it  might  even  be  called,  as  things  went  in  Honduras,  a 
friendship — and  who  had  so  clumsily  failed  to  rise  to  the 
situation.  The  bitter  thought  of  going  back  and  giving 
him  a  half-crown  rose  in  Thorpe's  inventive  mind,  and  he 
paused  for  an  instant,  his  hand  on  the  door-knob,  to  think 
it  over.  The  gratuity  would  certainly  put  Gafferson  in 
his  place,  but  then  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  offered 
would  be  wholly  lost  on  his  dull  brain.  And  moreover, 
was  it  so  certain  that  he  would  take  it  ?  He  had  not  said 
"sir"  once,  and  he  had  talked  about  medals  with  the 
pride  of  a  scientist.  The  rules  were  overwhelmingly 
against  a  gardener  rejecting  a  tip,  of  course,  but  if  there 
was  no  more  than  one  chance  in  twenty  of  it,  Thorpe  de 
cided  that  he  could  not  afford  the  risk. 

He  quitted  the  greenhouse  with  resolution,  and  directed 
his  steps  toward  the  front  of  the  mansion.  As  he  entered 
the  hall,  a  remarkably  tuneful  and  resonant  chime  filled 
his  ears  with  novel  music.  He  looked  and  saw  that  a 
white-capped,  neatly-clad  domestic,  standing  with  her 
back  to  him  beside  the  newel-post  of  the  stairs,  was  beat 
ing  out  the  tune  with  two  padded  sticks  upon  some  strips 
of  metal  ranged  on  a  stand  of  Indian  workmanship.  The 
sound  was  delightful,  but  even  more  so  was  the  implica 
tion  that  it  betokened  breakfast. 

With  inspiration,  he  drew  forth  the  half-crown  which 
he  had  been  fingering  in  his  pocket,  and  gave  it  to  the 
girl  as  she  turned.  "  That 's  the  kind  of  concert  I  like/' 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  8/ 

he  declared,  bestowing  the  patronage  of  a  jovial  smile 
upon  her  pleased  and  comely  face.  ' '  Show  me  the  way 
to  this  breakfast  that  you  've  been  serenading  about." 

Out  in  the  greenhouse,  meanwhile,  Gafferson  continued 
to  regard  blankly  the  shrivelled,  fatty  leaves  of  the  plant 
he  had  taken  up.  ' '  Thorpe, ' '  he  said  aloud,  as  if  address 
ing  the  tabid  gloxinia — ' '  Thorpe — yes — I  remember  his 
initials — J.  S.  Thorpe.  Now,  who  's  the  man  that  told 
me  about  him  ?  and  what  was  it  he  told  me  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  experiences  of  the  breakfast  room  were  very  agree 
able  indeed.  Thorpe  found  himself  the  only  man 
present,  and,  after  the  first  few  minutes  of  embarrassment 
at  this  discovery,  it  filled  him  with  surprised  delight  to 
note  how  perfectly  he  was  at  his  ease.  He  could  never 
have  imagined  himself  seated  with  four  ladies  at  a  table — 
three  of  them,  moreover,  ladies  of  title — and  doing  it  all 
so  well. 

For  one  thing,  the  ladies  themselves  had  a  morning 
manner,  so  to  speak,  which  differed  widely  from  the  im 
pressions  lu  had  had  of  their  deportment  the  previous 
evening.  They  seemed  now  to  be  as  simple  and  fresh  and 
natural  as  the  unadorned  frocks  they  wore.  They  listened 
with  an  air  of  good-fellowship  to  him  when  he  spoke  ;  they 
smiled  at  the  right  places  ;  they  acted  as  if  they  liked  him, 
and  were  glad  of  his  company. 

The  satisfied  conviction  that  he  was  talking  well,  and 
behaving  well,  accompanied  him  in  his  progress  through 
the  meal.  His  confession  at  the  outset  of  his  great  hunger, 
and  of  the  sinister  apprehensions  which  had  assailed  him 
in  h:s  loitering  walk  about  the  place,  proved  a  most  for 
tuitous  beginning  ;  after  that,  they  were  ready  to  regard 
everything  he  said  as  amusing. 

"  Oh,  when  we  're  by  ourselves,"  the  kindly  little  old 
hostess  explained  to  him,  "  my  daughter  and  I  breakfast 
always  at  nine.  That  was  our  hour  yesterday  morning,  for 
example.  But  when  my  son  is  here,  then  it 's  farewell  to 

86 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  89 

regularity.  We  put  breakfast  back  till  ten,  then,  as  a 
kind  of  compromise  between  our  own  early  habits  and  his 
lack  of  any  sort  of  habits.  Why  we  do  it  I  could  n't  say 
— because  he  never  comes  down  in  any  event.  He  sleeps 
so  well  at  Hadlow — and  you  know  in  town  he  sleeps  very 
ill  indeed — and  so  we  don't  dream  of  complaining. 
We  're  only  too  glad — for  his  sake." 

"  And  Balder,"  commented  the  sister,  "  he  's  as  bad 
the  other  way.  He  gets  up  at  some  unearthly  hour,  and 
has  his  tea  and  a  sandwich  from  the  still-room,  and  goes 
off  with  his  rod  or  his  gun  or  the  dogs,  and  we  never  see 
him  till  luncheon." 

"I  've  been  on  the  point  of  asking  so  many  times," 
Miss  Madden  interposed — "  is  Balder  a  family  name,  or 
is  it  after  the  Viking  in  Matthew  Arnold's  poem  ?  " 

"  It  was  his  father's  choice,"  L,ady  Plowden  made  an 
swer.  "  I  think  the  Viking  explanation  is  tie  right  one 
— it  certainly  is  n't  in  either  family.  I  can't  say  that  it 
attracted  me  much — at  first,  you  know. ' ' 

"  Oh,  but  it  fits  him  so  splendidly,"  said  Lady  Cres- 
sage.  ' '  He  looks  the  part,  as  they  say.  I  always  thought 
it  was  the  best  of  all  the  soldier  names — and  you  have  only 
to  look  at  him  to  see  that  he  was  predestined  for  a  soldier 
from  his  cradle." 

"  I  wish  the  Sandhurst  people  would  have  a  good  long 
look  at  him,  then,"  put  in  the  mother  with  earnestness 
underlying  the  jest  of  her  tone.  "  The  poor  boy  will 
never  pass  those  exams  in  the  world.  It  is  ridiculous,  as 
his  father  always  said.  If  there  ever  was  a  man  who  was 
made  for  a  soldier,  it  's  Balder.  He  's  a  gentleman,  and 
he  's  connected  by  tradition  with  the  Army,  and  he  's 
mad  about  everything  military — and  surely  he  's  as  clever 
as  anybody  else  at  everything  except  that  wretched  matter 
of  books,  and  even  there  it  's  only  a  defect  of  memory-—* 


9O  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

and  yet  that  suffices  to  prevent  his  serving  his  Queen. 
And  all  over  England  there  are  young  gentlemen  like  that 
— the  very  pick  of  the  hunting-fields,  strong  and  brave  as 
lions,  fit  to  lead  men  anywhere,  the  very  men  England 
wants  to  have  fighting  her  battles — and  they  can't  get 
places  in  the  Army  because — what  was  it  Balder  came  to 
grief  over  last  time  ?  —  because  they  can' t  remember 
whether  it  's  Ispahan  or  Teheran  that  's  the  capital  of 
Persia. 

"  They  are  the  fine  old  sort  that  would  go  and  capture 
both  places  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet — and  find  out  their 
names  afterward — but  it  seems  that 's  not  what  the  Army 
wants  nowadays.  What  is  desired  now  is  superior  clerks, 
and  secretaries  and  professors  of  languages — and  much 
good  they  will  do  us  when  the  time  of  trouble  comes !  ' ' 

"Then  you  think  the  purchase-system  was  better?" 
asked  the  American  lady.  * '  It  always  seemed  to  me  that 
that  must  have  worked  so  curiously." 

' '  Prefer  it  ?  "  said  Lady  Plowden.  ' '  A  thousand  times 
yes  !  My  husband  made  one  of  the  best  speeches  in  the 
debate  on  it — one  do  I  say  ? — first  and  last  he  must  have 
made  a  dozen  of  them.  If  anything  could  have  kept  the 
House  of  Lords  firm,  in  the  face  of  the  wretched  Radical 
outcry,  it  would  have  been  those  speeches.  He  pointed 
out  all  the  evils  that  would  follow  the  change.  You  might 
have  called  it  prophetic — the  way  he  foresaw  what  would 
happen  to  Balder — or  not  Balder  in  particular,  of  course, 
but  that  whole  class  of  young  gentlemen. 

"  As  he  said,  you  have  only  to  ask  yourself  what  kind 
of  people  the  lower  classes  naturally  look  up  to  and  obey 
and  follow.  Will  they  be  ordered  about  by  a  man  simply 
because  he  knows  Greek  and  Latin  and  Hebrew  ?  Do 
they  respect  the  village  schoolmaster,  for  example,  on 
account  of  his  learning  ?  Not  in  the  very  slightest !  On 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  £t 

the  contrary,  they  regard  him  with  the  greatest  contempt. 
The  man  they  will  serve  is  the  man  whose  birth  gives  him 
the  right  to  command  them,  or  else  the  man  with  money 
in  his  pockets  to  make  it  worth  their  while.  These  two 
are  the  only  leaders  they  understand.  And  if  that 's  true 
here  in  England,  in  times  of  peace,  among  our  own  people, 
how  much  truer  niusi  it  be  of  our  soldiers,  away  from 
England,  in  a  time  ot  war  ?  " 

"  But,  mamma,"  the  Hon.  Winifred  intervened,  "  don't 
you  see  how  badly  that  might  work  nowadays  ?  now  that 
the  good  families  have  so  little  money,  and  all  the  fortunes 
are  in  the  hands  of  stock -jobbing  people — and  so  on  ?  It 
would  be  their  sons  who  would  buy  all  the  commissions — 
and  I  'm  sure  Balder  would  n't  get  on  at  all  with  that 
lot." 

L,ady  Plowden  answered  with  decision  and  great  prompt 
ness.  *  '  You  see  so  little  of  the  world,  Winnie  dear,  that 
you  don't  get  very  clear  ideas  of  its  movements.  The 
people  who  make  fortunes  in  England  are  every  whit  as 
important  to  its  welfare  as  those  who  inherit  names,  and 
individually  I  'm  sure  they  are  often  much  more  deserv 
ing.  Every  generation  sniffs  at  its  nouveaux  riches,  but 
by  the  next  they  have  become  merged  in  the  aristocracy. 
It  is  n't  a  new  thing  in  England  at  all.  It  has  always 
been  that  way.  Two-thirds  of  the  peerage  have  their 
start  from  a  wealthy  merchant,  or  some  other  person  who 
made  a  fortune.  They  are  really  the  back-bone  of  Eng- 
land.  You  should  keep  that  always  in  mind." 

"  Of  course — I  see  what  you  mean  " — Winnie  replied, 
her  dark  cheek  flushing  faintly  under  the  tacit  reproof. 
She  had  passed  her  twenty-fifth  birthday,  but  her  voice 
had  in  it  the  docile  self-repression  of  a  school-girl.  She 
spoke  with  diffident  slowness,  her  gaze  fastened  upon 
her  plate.  "  Of  course — my  grandfather  was  a  lawyer — 


Q2  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

and  your  point  is  that  merchants — and  others  who  make 
fortunes — would  be  the  same." 

"  Precisely,"  said  Lady  Plowden.  "  And  do  tell  us, 
Mr.  Thorpe" — she  turned  toward  where  he  sat  at  her 
right  and  beamed  at  him  over  her  spectacles,  with  the  air 
of  having  been  wearied  with  a  conversation  in  which  he 
bore  no  part — "  is  it  really  true  that  social  discontent  is 
becoming  more  marked  in  America,  even,  than  it  is  with 
us  in  England  ?  " 

"  I  'm  not  an  American,  you  know,"  he  reminded  her. 
"  I  only  know  one  or  two  sections  of  the  country — and 
those  only  as  a  stranger.  You  should  ask  Miss  Madden." 

"  Me  ?  "  said  Celia.  "  Oh,  I  have  n't  come  up  for  my 
examinations  yet.  I  'm  like  Balder — I  'm  preparing." 

"  What  I  should  like  Mr.  Thorpe  to  tell  us,"  suggested 
Lady  Cressage,  mildly,  "  is  about  the  flowers  in  the  tropics 
— in  Java,  for  example,  or  some  of  the  West  Indies.  One 
hears  such  marvelous  tales  about  them." 

"Speaking  of  flowers,"  Thorpe  suddenly  decided  to 
mention  the  fact  ;  "  I  met  out  in  one  of  the  greenhouses 
here  this  morning,  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine,  the  gar 
dener,  Gafferson.  The  last  time  I  saw  him,  he  was  run 
ning  the  worst  hotel  in  the  world  in  the  worst  country  in 
the  world — out  in  British  Honduras." 

"  But  he  's  a  wonderful  gardener,"  said  Lady  Cressage. 
"  He  's  a  magician  ;  he  can  do  what  he  likes  with  plants. 
It  's  rather  a  hobby  of  mine — or  used  to  be — and  I  never 
saw  his  equal." 

Thorpe  told  them  about  Gafferson,  in  that  forlorn  en 
vironment  on  the  Belize  road,  and  his  success  in  making 
them  laugh  drew  him  on  to  other  picture^  of  the  droll  side 
of  life  among  the  misfits  of  adventure.,  'The  ladies  visibly 
dallied  over  their  tea-cups  to  listen  to  him  ;  the  charm  of 
having  them  all  to  himself,  and  of  holding  them  in  inter- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  93 

•steel  entertainment  by  his  discourse — these  ladiei  of 
supremely  refined  associations  and  position — seemed  to 
provide  an  inspiration  of  its  own.  -He  could  hear  that 
his  voice  was  automatically  modulating  itself  to  their  criti 
cal  ears.  His  language  was  producing  itself  with  as  much 
delicacy  of  selection  as  if  it  came  out  of  a  book — and  yet 
preserving  the  savour  of  quaint,  outlandish  idiom  which 
his  listeners  clearly  liked.  Upon  the  instant  when  Lady 
Plowden's  gathering  of  skirts,  and  glance  across  the  table, 
warned  him  that  they  were  to  rise,  he  said  deliberately  to 
himself  that  this  had  been  the  most  enjoyable  episode  of 
his  whole  life. 

There  were  cigar  boxes  on  the  fine  old  oak  mantel,  out 
in  the  hall,  and  Winnie  indicated  them  to  him  with  the 
obvious  suggestion  that  he  was  expected  to  smoke.  He 
looked  her  over  as  he  lit  his  cigar — where  she  stood 
spreading  her  hands  above  the  blaze  ot  the  logs,  and 
concluded  that  she  was  much  nicer  upon  acquaintance 
than  he  had  thought.  Her  slight  figure  might  not  be 
beautiful,  but  beyond  doubt  its  lines  were  ladylike.  The 
same  extenuating  word  applied  itself  in  his  mind  to  her 
thin  and  swarthy,  though  distinguished,  features.  They 
bore  the  stamp  of  caste,  and  so  did  the  way  she  looked  at 
one  through  her  eye-glasses,  from  under  those  over-heavy 
black  eyebrows,  holding  her  head  a  little  to  one  side. 
Though  it  was  easy  enough  to  guess  that  she  had  a  spirit 
of  her  own,  her  gentle,  almost  anxious,  deference  to  her 
mother  had  shown  that  she  had  it  under  admirable  controL 

He  had  read  about  her  in  a  peerage  at  his  sister's  book 
shop  the  previous  day.  Unfortunately  it  did  not  give  her 
age,  but  that  was  not  so  important,  after  all.  She  was 
styled  Honourable.  She  was  the  daughter  ot  one  Vis 
count  and  the  sister  of  another.  Her  grandfather  had 
been  an  Earl,  and  the  book  had  shown  her  to  possess  3, 


94  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

bewildering  number  of  relationships  among  titled  folks. 
All  this  was  very  interesting  to  him — and  somewhat  sug 
gestive.  Vague,  shapeless  hints  at  projects  rose  in  his 
brain  as  he  looked  at  her. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  think  my  brother  has  odd  notions  of 
entertaining  his  guests, ' '  she  remarked  to  him,  over  her 
shoulder.  The  other  ladies  had  not  joined  them. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  all  right,"  he  protested  cordially.  "  I 
should  hate  to  have  him  put  himself  out  in  the  slightest." 
Upon  consideration  he  added  :  "  I  suppose  he  has  given 
up  the  idea  of  shooting  to-day." 

' '  I  think  not, ' '  she  answered.  ' '  The  keeper  was  about 
this  morning,  that  is — and  he  does  n't  often  come  unless 
they  are  to  go  out  with  the  guns.  I  suppose  you  are  very 
fond  of  shooting. ' ' 

"Well — I  've  done  some — in  my  time,"  Thorpe  re 
plied,  cautiously.  It  did  not  seem  necessary  to  explain 
that  he  had  yet  to  fire  his  first  gun  on  English  soil. 
"  It 's  a  good  many  years,"  he  went  on;  "  since  I  had  the 
time  and  opportunity  to  do  much  at  it.  I  think  the  last 
shooting  I  did  was  alligators.  You  hit  'em  in  the  eye,  you 
know.  But  what  kind  of  a  hand  I  shall  make  of  it  with  a 
shot-gun,  I  have  n't  the  least  idea.  Is  the  shooting  round 
here  pretty  good  ?  ' ' 

11  I  don't  think  it  's  anything  remarkable.  Plowden 
says  my  brother  Balder  kills  all  the  birds  off  every  season. 
Balder 's  by  way  of  being  a  crack-shot,  you  know.  There 
are  some  pheasants,  though.  We  saw  them  flying  when 
we  were  out  this  morning." 

Thorpe  wondered  if  it  would  be  possible  to  consult  her 
upon  the  question  of  apparel.  Clearly,  he  ought  to  make 
some  difference  in  his  garb,  yet  the  mental  vision  of  him 
self  in  those  old  Mexican  clothes  revealed  itself  now  as 
ridiculously  impossible.  He  must  have  been  out  of  his 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  95 

mind  to  have  conceived  anything  so  preposterous  as  rig 
ging  himself  out,  among  these  polished  people,  like  a  cow- 
puncher  down  on  his  luck. 

' '  I  wonder  when  your  brother  will  expect  to  start, ' '  he 
began,  uneasily.  ' '  Perhaps  I  ought  to  go  and  get  ready. ' ' 

' '  Ah,  here  comes  his  man, ' '  remarked  the  sister. 

A  round-faced,  smooth-mannered  youngster — whom 
Thorpe  discovered  to  be  wearing  cord-breeches  and 
leather  leggings  as  he  descended  the  stairs — advanced 
toward  him  and  prefaced  his  message  by  the  invariable 
salutation.  "  His  L,ordship  will  be  down,  sir,  in  ten  min 
utes — and  he  hopes  you  '11  be  ready,  sir,"  the  valet  said. 

"  Send  Pangbourn  to  this  gentleman's  room,"  Miss 
Winnie  bade  him,  and  with  a  gesture  of  comprehensive 
submission  he  went  away. 

The  calm  readiness  with  which  she  had  provided  a  solu 
tion  for  his  difficulties  impressed  Thorpe  greatly.  It 
would  never  have  occurred  to  him  that  Pangbourn  was 
the  answer  to  the  problem  of  his  clothes,  yet  how  obvious 
it  had  been  to  her.  These  old  families  did  something 
more  than  fill  their  houses  with  servants  ;  they  mastered  J 
the  art  of  making  these  servants  an  integral  part  of  the 
machinery  of  existence.  Fancy  having  a  man  to  do  all 
your  thinking  about  clothes  for  you,  and  then  dress  you, 
into  the  bargain.  Oh,  it  was  all  splendid. 

"  It  seems  that  we  're  going  shooting,"  Thorpe  found 
himself  explaining,  a  few  moments  later  in  his  bedroom, 
to  the  attentive  Pangbourn.  He  decided  to  throw  him 
self  with  frankness  upon  the  domestic's  resourceful  good- 
feeling.  "  I  have  n't  brought  anything  for  shooting  at 
all.  Somehow  I  got  the  idea  we  were  going  to  do  rough 
riding  instead — and  so  I  fetched  along  some  old  Mexican 
riding-clothes  that  make  me  feel  more  at  home  in  the 
saddle  than  anything  else  would.  You  know  how  fond  a 


96  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

man  gets  of  old,  loose  things  like  that.  But  about  thin 
shooting — I  want  you  to  fix  ine  out.  What  do  I  need  ? 
Just  some  breeches  and  leggings,  eh  ?  You  can  manage 
them  for  me,  can't  you  ?  " 

Pangbourn  could  and  did — and  it  was  upon  his  advice 
that  the  Mexican  jacket  was  utilized  to  complete  the  out 
fit.  Its  shape  was  beyond  doubt  uncommon,  but  it  had 
big  pockets,  and  it  looked  like  business.  Thorpe,  as  he 
glanced  up  and  down  his  image  in  the  tall  mirror  of  the 
wardrobe,  felt  that  he  must  kill  a  large  number  of  birds 
to  justify  the  effect  of  pitiless  proficiency  which  this  jacket 
lent  to  his  appearance. 

"  We  will  find  a  cap  below,  sir,"  Pangbourn  an 
nounced,  with  serenity,  and  Thorpe,  who  had  been  ten 
tatively  fingering  the  big,  flaring  sombrero,  thrust  it  back 
upon  its  peg  as  if  it  had  proved  too  hot  to  handle. 

Downstairs  in  the  hall  there  was  more  waiting  to  be 
done,  and  there  was  nobody  now  to  bear  him  company. 
He  lit  another  cigar,  tried  on  various  caps  till  he  found  a 
leathern  one  to  suit  him,  and  then  dawdled  about  the  room 
and  the  adjoining  conservatory  for  what  seemed  to  him 
more  than  half  an  hour.  This  phase  of  the  aristocratic 
routine,  he  felt,  did  not  commend  itself  so  warmly  to  him 
as  did  some  others.  Everybody  else,  however,  seemed  to 
regard  it  as  so  wholly  a  matter  of  course  that  Plowden 
should  do  as  he  liked,  that  he  forbore  formulating  a  com 
plaint  even  to  himself. 

At  last,  this  nobleman's  valet  descended  the  stairs  once 
more.  "  His  Lordship  will  be  down  very  shortly  now, 
sir,"  he  declared — "  and  will  you  be  good  enough  to  come 
into  the  gun-room,  sir,  and  see  the  keeper  ? ' ' 

Thorpe  followed  him  through  a  doorway  under  the 
staircase — the  existence  of  which  he  had  not  suspected — • 
fnto  a  bare-looking  apartment  fitted  like  a  pantry  witb 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  97 

shelves.  After  the  semi-gloom  of  the  hall,  it  was  almost 
glaringly  lighted.  The  windows  and  another  door  opened, 
he  saw,  upon  a  court  connected  with  the  stable-yard. 
By  this  entrance,  no  doubt,  had  come  the  keeper,  a  small, 
brown-faced,  brown-clothed  man  of  mature  years,  with  the 
strap  of  a  pouch  over  his  shoulder,  who  stood  looking  at 
the  contents  of  the  shelves.  He  mechanically  saluted 
Thorpe  in  turn,  and  then  resumed  his  occupation.  There 
were  numerous  gun  cases  on  the  lower  shelf,  and  many 
boxes  and  bags  above. 

"  Did  his  Lordship  say  what  gun?"  the  keeper  de 
manded  of  the  valet.  He  had  a  bright-eyed,  intent 
glance,  and  his  tone  conveyed  a  sense  of  some  broad,  im 
personal,  out-of-doors  disdain  for  liveried  house-men. 

The  valet,  standing  behind  Thorpe,  shrugged  his  shoul 
ders  and  eloquently  shook  his  head. 

*  *  Do  you  like  an  'ammerless,  sir  ?  "  The  keeper  turned 
to  Thorpe. 

To  his  intense  humiliation,  Thorpe  could  not  make  out 
the  meaning  of  the  query.  "  Oh,  anything  '11  do  for  me," 
he  said,  awkwardly  smiling.  "  It  's  years  since  I  've 
shot — I  daresay  one  gun  '11  be  quite  the  same  as  another 
tome.'* 

He  felt  the  knowing  bright  eyes  of  the  keeper  taking 
all  his  measurements  as  a  sportsman.  "  You  'd  do  best 
with  '  B,'  sir,  I  fancy,"  the  functionary  decided  at  last, 
and  his  way  of  saying  it  gave  Thorpe  the  notion  that 
"  B  "  must  be  the  weapon  that  was  reserved  for  school 
boys.  He  watched  the  operation  of  putting  the  gun  to 
gether,  and  then  took  it,  and  laid  it  over  his  arm,  and 
followed  the  valet  out  into  the  hall  again,  in  dignified 
silence.  To  the  keeper's  remark — "  Mr.  Balder  has  its 
mate  with  him  today,  sir,"  he  gave  only  a  restrained 
nod. 

7 


98  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

There  were  even  now  whole  minutes  to  wait  before 
Lord  Plowden  appeared.  He  came  down  the  stairs  then 
with  the  brisk,  rather  impatient  air  of  a  busy  man  whose 
plans  are  embarrassed  by  the  unpunctuality  of  others. 
He  was  fully  attired,  hob-nailed  shoes,  leggings,  leather 
coat  and  cap,  gloves,  scarf  round  his  throat  and  all — and 
he  behaved  as  if  there  was  not  a  minute  to  lose.  He  had 
barely  time  to  shake  perfunctorily  the  hand  Thorpe  offered 
him,  and  utter  an  absent-minded  "  How  are  you  this 
morning?  " 

To  the  valet,  who  hurried  forward  to  open  the  outer 
door,  bearing  his  master's  gun  and  a  camp-stool,  he  said 
reproachfully,  "  We  are  very  late  today,  Barnes."  They 
went  out,  and  began  striding  down  the  avenue  of  trees  at 
such  a  pace  that  the  keeper  and  his  following  of  small  boys 
and  dogs,  who  joined  them  near  the  road,  were  forced  into 
a  trot  to  keep  up  with  it. 

Thorpe  had  fancied,  somehow,  that  a  day's  shooting 
would  afford  exceptional  opportunities  for  quiet  and  inti 
mate  talk  with  his  host,  but  he  perceived  very  soon  that 
this  was  not  to  be  the  case.  They  walked  together  for 
half  a  mile,  it  is  true,  along  a  rural  bye-road  first  and  then 
across  some  fields,  but  the  party  was  close  at  their  heels, 
and  Plowden  walked  so  fast  that  conversation  of  any  sort, 
save  an  occasional  remark  about  the  birds  and  the  covers 
between  him  and  the  keeper,  was  impracticable.  The 
Hon.  Balder  suddenly  turned  up  in  the  landscape,  leaning 
against  a  gate  set  in  a  hedgerow,  and  their  course  was 
deflected  toward  .him,  but  even  when  they  came  up  to 
him,  the  expedition  seemed  to  gain  nothing  of  a  social 
character.  The  few  curt  words  that  were  exchanged,  as 
they  halted  here  to  distribute  cartridges  and  hold  brief 
consultation,  bore  exclusively  upon  the  subject  in  hand. 

The  keeper  assumed  now  an  authority  which  Thorpe, 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  99 

breathing  heavily  over  the  unwonted  exercise  and  hoping 
for  nothing  so  much  as  that  they  would  henceforth  take 
things  easy,  thought  intolerable.  He  was  amazed  that 
the  two  brothers  should  take  without  cavil  the  arbitrary 
orders  of  this  elderly  peasant.  He  bade  Lord  Plowden 
proceed  to  a  certain  point  in  one  direction,  and  that  noble 
man,  followed  by  his  valet  with  the  gun  and  the  stool,  set 
meekly  off  without  a  word.  Balder,  with  equal  docility, 
vaulted  the  gate,  and  moved  away  down  the  lane  at  the 
bidding  of  the  keeper.  Neither  of  them  had  intervened 
to  mitigate  the  destiny  of  their  guest,  or  displayed  any 
interest  as  to  what  was  going  to  become  of  him. 

Thorpe  said  to  himself  that  he  did  not  like  this — and 
though  afterward,  when  he  had  also  climbed  the  gate  and 
taken  up  his  station  under  a  clump  of  trees  at  the  auto 
crat's  behest,  he  strove  to  soothe  his  ruffled  feelings  by 
the  argument  that  it  was  probably  the  absolutely  correct 
deportment  for  a  shooting  party,  his  mind  remained  un 
convinced.  Moreover,  in  parting  from  him,  the  keeper 
had  dropped  a  blunt  injunction  about  firing  up  or  down 
the  lane,  the  tone  even  more  than  the  matter  of  which 
nettled  him. 

To  cap  all,  when  he  presently  ventured  to  stroll  about 
a  little  from  the  spot  on  which  he  had  been  planted,  he 
caught  a  glimpse  against  the  skyline  of  the  distant  Lord 
Plowden,  comfortably  seated  on  the  stool  which  his  valet 
had  been  carrying.  It  seemed  to  Thorpe  at  that  moment 
that  he  had  never  wanted  to  sit  down  so  much  before  in 
his  life — and  he  turned  on  his  heel  in  the  wet  grass  with 
a  grunt  of  displeasure. 

This  mood  vanished  utterly  a  fewr  moments  later.  The 
remote  sounds  had  begun  to  come  to  him,  of  boys  shout 
ing  and  dogs  barking,  in  the  recesses  of  the  strip  of  wood 
land  which  the  lane  skirted,  and  at  these  he  hastened  back 


IOO  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

to  his  post.  It  did  not  seem  to  him  a  good  place,  and 
when  he  heard  the  reports  of  guns  to  right  and  left  of 
him,  arid  nothing  came  his  way,  he  liked  it  less  than 
ever  ;  it  had  become  a  matter  of  offended  pride  with  him, 
however,  to  relieve  the  keeper  of  no  atom  of  the  responsi 
bility  he  had  taken  upon  himself.  If  Lord  Plowden's 
guest  had  no  sport,  the  blame  for  it  should  rest  upon  Lord 
Plowden's  over-arrogant  keeper. 

Then  a  noise  of  a  different  character  assailed  his  ears, 
punctuated  as  it  were  by  distant  boyish  cries  of  "  mark  !  " 
These  cries,  and  the  buzzing  sound  as  of  clockwork  gone 
wrong  which  they  accompanied  and  heralded,  became  all 
at  once  a  most  urgent  affair  of  his  own.  He  strained  his 
eyes  upon  the  horizon  of  the  thicket — and,  as  if  by  in 
stinct,  the  gun  sprang  up  to  adjust  its  sight  to  this  eager 
gaze,  and  followed  automatically  the  thundering  course 
of  the  big  bird,  and  then,  taking  thought  to  itself,  leaped 
ahead  of  it  and  fired.  Thorpe's  first  pheasant  reeled  in 
the  air,  described  a  somersault,  and  fell  like  a  plummet. 

He  stirred  not  a  step,  but  reloaded  the  barrel  with  a 
hand  shaking  for  joy.  From  where  he  stood  he  could  see 
the  dead  bird  ;  there  could  never  have  been  a  cleaner 
"  kill."  In  the  warming  glow  of  his  satisfaction  in  him 
self,  there  kindled  a  new  liking  of  a  different  sort  for 
Plowden  and  Balder.  He  owed  to  them,  at  this  belated 
hour  of  his  life,  a  novel  delight  of  indescribable  charm. 
There  came  to  him,  from  the  woods,  the  shrill  bucolic 
voice  of  the  keeper,  admonishing  a  wayward  dog.  He 
was  conscious  of  even  a  certain  tenderness  for  this  keeper 
— and  again  the  cry  of  "  mark  !  "  rose,  strenuously  ad 
dressed  to  him. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  wood  had  been  cleared,  and 
Thorpe  saw  the  rest  of  the  party  assembling  by  the  gate. 
He  did  not  hurry  to  join  them,  but  when  Lord  Plowden 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  IOI 

appeared  he  sauntered  slowly  over,  gun  over  arm,  with  as 
indifferent  an  air  as  he  could  simulate.  It  pleased  him 
tremendously  that  no  one  had  thought  it  worth  while  to 
approach  the  rendezvous  by  way  of  the  spot  he  had 
covered.  His  eye  took  instant  stock  of  the  game  carried 
by  two  of  the  boys;  their  combined  prizes  were  eight  birds 
and  a  rabbit,  and  his  heart  leaped  within  him  at  the 
count. 

"Well,  Thorpe?"  asked  Plowden,  pleasantly.  The 
smell  of  gunpowder  and  the  sight  of  stained  feathers  had 
co-operated  to  brighten  and  cheer  his  mood.  "  I  heard 
you  blazing  away  in  great  form.  Did  you  get  anything  ?  " 

Thorpe  strove  hard  to  give  his  voice  a  careless  note. 
"  L,et  some  of  the  boys  run  over,"  he  said  slowly. 
:<  There  are  nine  birds  within  sight,  and  there  are  two  or 
three  in  the  bushes — but  they  may  have  got  away." 

"  Gad  !  "  said  Balder. 

"  Magnificent  !  "  was  his  brother's  comment — and 
Thorpe  permitted  himself  the  luxury  of  a  long-drawn, 
beaming  sigh  of  triumph. 

The  roseate  colouring  of  this  triumph  seemed  really  to 
tint  everything  that  remained  of  Thorpe's  visit.  He  set 
down  to  it  without  hesitation  the  visible  augmentation  of 
deference  to  him  among  the  servants.  The  temptation 
was  very  great  to  believe  that  it  had  affected  the  ladies  of 
the  house  as  wrell.  He  could  not  say  that  they  were  more 
gracious  to  him,  but  certainly  they  appeared  to  take  him 
more  for  granted.  In  a  hundred  little  ways,  he  seemed 
to  perceive  that  he  was  no  longer  held  mentally  at  arm's 
length  as  a  stranger  to  their  caste.  Of  course,  his  own 
restored  self-confidence  could  account  for  much  of  this, 
but  he  clung  to  the  whimsical  conceit  that  much  was  also 
due  to  the  fact  that  he  was  the  man  of  the  pheasants. 

Sunday  was  bleak  and  stormy,  and  no  one  stirred  out 


102  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

ol  the  house.  He  was  alone  again  with  the  ladies  at 
breakfast,  and  during  the  long  day  he  was  much  in  their 
company.  It  was  like  no  other  day  he  had  ever  imagined 
to  himself. 

On  the  morrow,  in  the  morning  train  by  which  he  re 
turned  alone  to  town,  his  mind  roved  luxuriously  among 
the  fragrant  memories  of  that  day.  He  had  been  so  per 
fectly  at  home — and  in  such  a  home  !  There  were  some 
things  which  came  uppermost  again  and  again — but  of 
them  all  he  dwelt  most  fixedly  upon  the  recollection  of 
moving  about  in  the  greenhouses  and  conservatories,  with 
that  tall,  stately,  fair  Lady  Cressage  for  his  guide,  and 
watching  her  instead  of  the  flowers  that  she  pointed  out. 
Of  what  she  had  told  him,  not  a  syllable  stuck  in  his 
mind,  but  the  music  of  the  voice  lingered  in  his  ears. 

"  And  she  is  old  Kervick's  daughter  !  "  he  said  to  him 
self  more  than  once. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IT  may  be  that  every  other  passenger  in  that  morning 
train  to  London  nursed  either  a  silent  rage,  or  de 
claimed  aloud  to  fellow-sufferers  in  indignation,  at  the 
time  consumed  in  making  what,  by  the  map,  should  be  so 
brief  a  journey.  In  Thorpe's  own  compartment,  men 
spoke  with  savage  irony  of  cyclists  alleged  to  be  passing 
them  on  the  road,  and  exchanged  dark  prophecies  as  to 
the  novelties  in  imbecility  and  helplessness  which  the  line 
would  be  preparing  for  the  Christmas  holidays.  The  old 
joke  about  people  who  had  gone  travelling  years  before, 
and  were  believed  to  be  still  lost  somewhere  in  the  re 
cesses  of  Kent,  revived  itself  amid  gloomy  approbation. 
The  still  older  discussion  as  to  whether  the  South  Kastern 
or  the  Brighton  was  really  the  worst  followed  naturally 
in  its  wake,  and  occupied  its  accustomed  half-hour — com 
plicated,  however,  upon  this  occasion,  by  the  chance 
presence  of  a  loquacious  stranger  who  said  he  lived  on 
the  Chatham-and-Dover,  and  who  rejected  boisterously 
the  idea  that  any  other  railway  could  be  half  so  bad. 

The  intrusion  of  this  outsider  aroused  instant  resent 
ment,  and  the  champions  of  the  South  Eastern  and  the 
Brighton,  having  piled  up  additional  defenses  in  the 
shape  of  personal  recollections  of  delay  and  mismanage 
ment  quite  beyond  belief,  made  a  combined  attack  upon 
the  newcomer.  He  was  evidently  incapable,  their  re 
marks  implied,  of  knowing  a  bad  railway  when  he  saw 
one.  To  suggest  that  the  characterless  and  inoffensive 

103 


IO4  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Chatharn-and- Dover,  so  commonplace  in  its  tame  virtues, 
was  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same  breath  with  the  daringly 
inventive  and  resourceful  malefactors  whose  rendezvous 
was  London  Bridge,  showed  either  a  weak  mind  or  a  cor 
rupt  heart.  Did  this  man  really  live  on  the  Dover  line  at 
all  ?  Angry  countenances  plainly  reflected  the  doubt. 

But  to  Thorpe  the  journey  seemed  short  enough — almost 
too  short.  The  conversation  interested  him  not  at  all  ; 
if  he  had  ever  known  the  Southern  lines  apart,  they  were 
all  one  to  him  now.  He  looked  out  of  the  window,  and 
could  have  sworn  that  he  thought  of  nothing  but  the  visit 
from  which  he  was  returning. 

When  he  alighted  at  Cannon  Street,  however,  it  was  to 
discover  that  his  mind  was  full  of  a  large,  new,  carefully- 
prepared  project.  It  came  to  him,  ready-made  and  practi 
cally  complete,  as  he  stood  on  the  platform,  superintending 
the  porter's  efforts  to  find  his  bags.  He  turned  it 
over  and  over  in  his  thoughts,  in  the  hansom,  more  to 
familiarize  himself  with  its  details  than  to  add  to  them. 
He  left  the  cab  to  wait  for  him  at  the  mouth  of  a  little 
alley  which  delves  its  way  into  Old  Broad  Street  through 
towering  walls  of  commercial  buildings,  old  and  new. 

Colin  Semple  was  happily  in  his  office — a  congeries  of 
small,  huddled  rooms,  dry  and  dirty  with  age,  which  had 
a  doorway  of  its  own  in  a  corner  of  the  court — and  Thorpe 
pushed  on  to  his  room  at  the  end  like  one  who  is  assured 
of  both  his  way  and  his  welcome. 

The  broker  was  standing  beside  a  desk,  dictating  a  let 
ter  to  a  clerk  who  sat  at  it,  and  with  only  a  nod  to  Thorpe 
he  proceeded  to  finish  this  task.  He  looked  more  than 
once  at  his  visitor  as  he  did  so,  in  a  preoccupied,  imper 
sonal  way.  To  the  other's  notion,  he  seemed  the  personi 
fication  of  business — without  an  ounce  of  distracting 
superfluous  flesh  upon  his  wiry,  tough  little  frame,  witl*- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  IO5 

out  a  trace  ot  unnecessary  politeness,  or  humour,  or 
sensibility  of  any  sort.  He  was  the  machine  perfected  and 
fined  down  to  absolute  essentials.  He  could  understand  a-' 
joke  if  it  was  useful  to  him  to  do  so.  He  could  drink,  and 
even  smoke  cigarettes,  with  a  natural  air,  if  these  exercises 
seemed  properly  to  belong  to  the  task  he  had  in  hand. 
Thorpe  did  not  conceive  him  doing  anything  for  the  mere 
human  reason  that  he  liked  to  do  it.  There  was  more  than 
a  touch  of  what  the  rustic  calls  "  ginger  "  in  his  hair  and 
closely-cropped,  pointed  beard,  and  he  had  the  comple 
mentary  florid  skin.  His  eyes — notably  direct,  confident 
eyes — were  of  a  grey  which  had  in  it  more  brown  than 
oiue.  He  wore  a  black  frock-coat,  buttoned  close,  and 
his  linen  produced  the  effect  of  a  conspicuous  white 
ness. 

He  turned  as  the  clerk  left  the  room,  and  let  his  serious, 
thin  lips  relax  for  an  instant  as  a  deferred  greeting. 
"  Well  ?  "  he  asked,  impassively. 

"  Have  you  got  a  quarter-of-an-hour  ?  "  asked  Thorpe  in 
turn.  "  I  want  a  talk  with  you." 

For  answer,  Semple  left  the  room.  Returning  after  a 
minute  or  two,  he  remarked,  "  Go  ahead  till  we  're 
stopped,"  and  seated  himself  on  the  corner  of  the  desk 
with  the  light  inconsequence  of  a  bird  on  a  twig.  Thorpe 
unbuttoned  his  overcoat,  laid  aside  his  hat,  and  seated 
himself. 

"  I  've  worked  out  the  whole  scheme,"  he  began,  as  if 
introducing  the  product  of  many  sleepless  nights'  cogita 
tions.  "  I  'm  going  to  leave  England  almost  immediately 
— go  on  the  Continent  and  loaf  about— I  've  never  seen 
the  Continent." 

Semple  regarded  him  in  silence.  "Well?"  he  ob 
served  at  last. 

"  You  see  the  idea,  don't  you  ?  "  Thorpe  demanded. 


IO6  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

The  broker  twitched  his  shoulders  slightly.  "  Go  on," 
he  said. 

"  But  the  idea  is  everything,"  protested  the  other. 
"  We  've  been  thinking  of  beginning  the  campaign 
straight  away — but  the  true  game  now  is  to  lie  low — 
silent  as  the  grave.  I  go  away  now,  d'  ye  see  ?  Nothing 
particular  is  said  about  it,  of  course,  but  in  a  month  or 
two  somebody  notices  that  I  'm  not  about,  and  he  hap 
pens  to  mention  it  to  somebody  else — and  so  there  gets  to 
be  the  impression  that  things  have  n't  gone  well  with  me, 
d'  ye  see  ?  On  the  same  plan,  I  let  all  the  clerks  at  my 
office  go.  The  Secretary  '11  come  round  every  once  in 
a  while  to  get  letters,  of  course,  and  perhaps  he  '11  keep 
a  boy  in  the  front  office  for  show,  but  practically  the 
place  '11  be  shut  up.  That  '11  help  out  the  general  im 
pression  that  I  've  gone  to  pieces.  Now  d'  ye  see  ?  " 

"It's  the  Special  Settlement  you  're  thinking  of," 
commented  Semple. 

"  Of  course.  The  fellows  that  we  're  going  to  squeeze 
would  move  heaven  and  hell  to  prevent  our  getting  that 
Settlement,  if  they  got  wind  of  what  was  going  on.  The 
only  weak  point  in  our  game  is  just  there.  Absolutely 
everything  hangs  on  the  Settlement  being  granted. 
Naturally,  then,  our  play  is  to  concentrate  everything  on 
getting  it  granted.  We  don't  want  to  raise  the  remotest 
shadow  of  a  suspicion  of  what  we  're  up  to,  till  after  we  're 
safe  past  that  rock.  So  we  go  on  in  the  way  to  attract  the 
least  possible  attention.  You  or  your  jobber  makes  the 
ordinary  application  for  a  Special  Settlement,  with  your 
six  signatures  and  so  on  ;  and  I  go  abroad  quietly,  and 
the  office  is  as  good  as  shut  up,  and  nobody  makes  a  peep 
about  Rubber  Consols— and  the  thing  works  itself.  You 
do  see  it,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  see  well  enough  the  things  that  are  to  be  seen,"  re- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  IO7 

plied  Semple,  with  a  certain  brevity  of  manner.  '  *  There 
was  a  sermon  of  my  father's  that  I  remember,  and  it  had 
for  its  text,  '  We  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen, 
but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen.'  ' 

Thorpe,  pondering  this  for  a  moment,  nodded  his  head. 
' '  Semple, ' '  he  said,  bringing  his  chair  forward  to  the  desk, 
"  that 's  what  I  've  come  for.  I  want  to  spread  my  cards 
on  the  table  for  you.  I  know  the  sum  you  've  laid 
out  already,  in  working  this  thing.  We  '11  say  that  that 
is  to  be  paid  back  to  you,  as  a  separate  transaction,  and 
we  '11  put  that  to  one  side.  Now  then,  leaving  that  out 
of  consideration,  what  do  you  think  you  ought  to  have  out 
of  the  winnings,  when  we  pull  the  thing  off?  Mind,  I  'm 
not  thinking  of  your  2,000  vendor's  shares " 

"  No — I  'm  not  thinking  much  of  them,  either/*  inter 
posed  Semple,  with  a  kind  of  dry  significance. 

"Oh,  they  '11  be  all  right,"  Thorpe  affirmed.  He 
laughed  unconsciously  as  he  did  so.  '  *  No,  what  I  want 
to  get  at  is  your  idea  of  what  should  come  to  you,  as  a 
bonus,  when  I  scoop  the  board. ' ' 

'  *  Twenty  thousand  pounds, ' '  said  Semple,  readily. 

Thorpe's  slow  glance  brightened  a  trifle.  "  I  had 
thought  thirty  would  be  a  fairer  figure,"  he  remarked, 
with  an  effort  at  simplicity. 

The  broker  put  out  his  under-lip.  "  You  will  find 
people  rather  disposed  to  distrust  a  man  who  promises 
more  than  he  's  asked,"  he  remarked  coldty. 

"  Yes — I  know  what  you  mean,"  Thorpe  hurried  to 
say,  flushing  awkwardly,  even  though  the  remark  was  so 
undeserved  ;  "  but  it  's  in  my  nature.  I  'm  full  of  the 
notion  of  doing  things  for  people  that  have  done  things 
for  me.  That  's  the  way  I  'm  built.  Why  "—he  halted 
to  consider  the  advisability  of  disclosing  what  he  had 
promised  to  do  for  L,ord  Plowden,  and  decided  against  it 


IOS  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  why,  without  you,  what  would  the  whole  thing  have 
been  worth  to  nae  ?  Take  one  thing  alone — the  money 
for  the  applications — I  could  have  no  more  got  at  it  than 
I  could  at  the  Crown  Jewels  in  the  Tower.  I  've  won 
dered  since,  more  than  once — if  you  don't  mind  the  ques 
tion — how  did  you  happen  to  have  so  much  ready  money 
lying  about." 

"  There  are  some  Glasgow  and  Aberdeen  folk  who 
trust  me  to  invest  for  them,"  the  broker  explained.  "  If 
they  get  five  per  cent,  for  the  four  months,  they  '11  be  very 
pleased.  And  so  I  shall  be  very  pleased  to  take  thirty 
thousand  instead  of  twenty — if  it  presents  itself  to  your 
mind  in  that  way.  You  will  give  me  a  letter  to  that 
effect,  of  course." 

' '  Of  course, ' '  assented  Thorpe.  ' '  Write  it  now,  if  you 
like. ' '  He  pushed  his  chair  forward,  closer  to  the  desk, 
and  dipped  a  pen  in  the  ink.  "  What  I  want  to  do  is 
this,"  he  said,  looking  up.  "I  '11  make  the  promise  for 
thirty-two  thousand,  and  I  '11  get  you  to  let  me  have  two 
thousand  in  cash  now — a  personal  advance.  I  shall  need 
it,  if  I  'm  to  hang  about  on  the  Continent  for  four  months. 
I  judge  you  think  it  '11  be  four  months  before  things 
materialize,  eh  ?  " 

"  The  Special  Settlement,  in  the  natural  order  of  events, 
would  come  shortly  after  the  Christmas  holidays.  That 
is  nearly  three  months.  Then  the  work  of  taking  fort 
nightly  profits  will  begin — and  it  is  for  you  to  say  how 
long  you  allow  that  to  go  on." 

"  But  about  the  two  thousand  pounds  now,"  Thorpe 
reminded  him. 

:<  I  think  I  will  do  that  in  this  way,"  said  Semple, 
kicking  his  small  legs  nonchalantly.  "  I  will  buy  two 
thousand  fully-paid  shares  of  you,  for  cash  down,  not 
vendor's  shares,  you  observe — and  then  I  will  take  your 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  IOQ 

acknowledgment  that  you  hold  them  for  me  in  trust  up  to 
a  given  date.  In  that  way,  I  would  not  at  all  weaken 
your  market,  and  I  would  have  a  stake  in  the  game. ' ' 

"  Your  stake  's  pretty  big,  already,"  commented 
Thorpe,  tentatively. 

"  It  's  just  a  fancy  of  mine,"  said  the  other,  with  his 
first  smile.  ' '  I  like  to  hold  shares  that  are  making  sen 
sational  advances.  It  is  very  exciting." 

"  All  right,"  said  Thorpe,  in  accents  of  resignation. 
He  wrote  out  two  letters,  accepting  the  wording  which 
Semple  suggested  from  his  perch  on  the  desk,  and  then 
the  latter,  hopping  down,  took  the  chair  in  turn  and  wrote 
a  cheque. 

"  Do  you  want  it  open  ?  "  he  asked  over  his  shoulder. 
"  Are  you  going  to  get  it  cashed  at  once  ?  " 

c<  No — cross  it,"  said  the  other.  "  I  want  it  to  go 
through  my  bankers.  It  '11  warm  their  hearts  toward  me. 
I  shan't  be  going  till  the  end  of  the  week,  in  any  event. 
I  suppose  you  know  the  Continent  by  heart." 

V  On  the  contrary,  very  little  indeed.  I  've  had  busi- 
nessHn  Frankfort  once,  and  in  Rotterdam  once,  and  in 
Paris  twice.  That  is  all. " 

"But  don't  you  ever  do  anything  for  pleasure?" 
Thorpe  asked  him,  as  he  folded  the  cheque  in  his  pocket- 
book. 

"  Oh  yes — many  things,"  responded  the  broker,  lightly. 
"  It  's  a  pleasure,  for  example,  to  buy  Rubber  Consols 
at  par. ' ' 

"  Oh,  if  you  call  it  buying,"  said  Thorpe,  and  then 
softened  his  words  with  an  apologetic  laugh.  "  I  did  n't 
tell  you,  did  I  ?  I  've  been  spending  Saturday  and  Sun 
day  with  Plowden — you  know,  the  Lord  Plowden  on  my 
Board." 

4 '  I  know  of  him  very  well, ' '  observed  the  Scotchman, 


IIO  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  Has  lie  a  place  that  he  asks  people  down  to,  then  ? 
That  is  n't  the  usual  form  with  guinea-pigs." 

"  Ah,  but,  he  is  n't  the  guinea-pig  variety  at  all," 
Thorpe  asserted,  warmly.  "  He  's  really  a  splendid  fel 
low — with  his  little  oddities,  like  the  rest  of  us,  of  course, 
but  a  decent  chap  all  through.  Place  ?  I  should  think 
he  had  got  a  place !  It  's  one  of  the  swellest  old  country- 
houses  you  ever  saw — older  than  hell,  you  know — and  it 's 
kept  up  as  if  they  had  fifty  thousand  a  year.  Do  you 
happen  to  know  what  his  real  income  is  supposed  to  be  ?  ' ' 

Semple  shook  his  head.  He  had  taken  his  hat,  and 
was  smoothing  it  deftly  with  the  palm  of  his  hand. 

* '  I  asked, ' '  Thorpe  went  on,  ' '  because  he  had  so  much 
1  to  say  about  his  poverty.  To  hear  him  talk,  you  'd  think 
the  bailiffs  were  sitting  on  his  doorstep.  That  does  n't 
prevent  his  having  fast  horses,  and  servants  all  over  the 
place,  and  about  the  best  shooting  I  've  seen  in  the  South 
of  England.  As  luck  would  have  it,  I  was  in  wonderful 
form.  God  !  how  I  knocked  the  pheasants  ! ' ' 

A  clerk  showed  his  head  at  the  door,  with  a  meaning 
gesture.  "  I  must  go  now,"  said  Semple,  briskly,  and 
led  the  way  out  to  another  room.  He  halted  here,  and 
dismissed  his  caller  with  the  brief  injunction,  "  Don't  go 
away  without  seeing  me. ' ' 

It  was  the  noon-hour,  and  the  least-considered  grades 
of  the  City's  slaves  were  in  the  streets  on  the  quest  for 
cheap  luncheons.  Thorpe  noted  the  manner  in  which 
some  of  them  studied  the  large  bill  of  fare  placarded 

f  beside  a  restaurant  door  ;    the  spectacle  prompted  him 
luxuriously  to  rattle  the   gold   coins  remaining   in   his 
,  pocket.     He  had  been   as  anxious   about  pence  as  the 
?  hungriest  of  those  poor  devils,  only  a  week  before.     And 
now  !     He  thrust  up  the  door  in  the  roof  of  the  cab,  and 
bade  the  driver  stop  at  his  bank.    Thence,  after  some 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  III 

brief  but  very  agreeable  business,  and  a  hurried  inspection 
of  the  ' c  Court ' '  section  of  a  London  Directory,  he  drove 
to  a  telegraph  station  and  despatched  two  messages. 
They  were  identical  in  terms.  One  sought  General  Ker- 
vick  at  his  residence — he  was  in  lodgings  somewhere  in  the 
Hanover  Square  country — and  the  other  looked  for  him 
at  his  club.  Both  begged  him  to  lunch  at  the  Savoy  at 
two  o'clock. 

There  was  time  and  to  spare,  now.  Thorpe  dismissed 
the  cab  at  his  hotel — an  unpretentious  house  in  Craven 
Street,  and  sent  his  luggage  to  his  rooms.  There  were  no 
letters  for  him  on  the  board  in  the  hallway,  and  he 
sauntered  up  to  the  Strand.  As  by  force  of  habit,  he 
turned  presently  into  a  side-street,  and  stopped  opposite 
the  ancient  book- shop  of  his  family. 

In  the  bright  yet  mellow  light  of  the  sunny  autumn 
noontide,  the  blacks  and  roans  and  smoked  drabs  of  the 
low  old  brick  front  looked  more  dingy  to  his  eye  than 
ever.  It  spoke  of  antiquity,  no  doubt,  but  it  was  a  dis 
mal  and  graceless  antiquity  of  narrow  purposes  and 
niggling  thrift.  It  was  so  little  like  the  antiquity,  for 
example,  of  Hadlow  House,  that  the  two  might  have 
computed  their  age  by  the  chronological  systems  of  differ 
ent  planets.  Although  his  sister's  married  name  was 
Dabney,  and  she  had  been  sole  proprietor  for  nearly  a 
dozen  years,  the  sign  over  the  doorway  bore  still  its  cen 
tury-old  legend,  "  Thorpe,  Bookseller." 

He  crossed  the  street,  and  paused  for  a  moment  to  run 
an  eye  over  the  books  and  placards  exposed  on  either  side 
of  the  entrance.  A  small  boy  guarded  these  wares,  and 
Thorpe  considered  him  briefly,  with  curious  recollections 
of  how  much  of  his  own  boyhood  had  been  spent  on  that 
very  spot.  The  lad  under  observation  had  a  loutish  and 
sullen  face  ;  its  expression  could  not  have  been  more  de- 


112  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

void  of  intellectual  suggestions  if  he  had  been  posted  in  a 
Wiltshire  field  to  frighten  crows  with  a  rattle,  instead  of 
being  set  here  in  the  highway  of  the  world's  brain-move 
ment,  an  agent  of  students  and  philosophers.  Thorpe 
wondered  if  in  his  time  he  could  have  looked  such  a  vacant 
and  sour  young  fool.  No — no.  That  could  not  be.  Boys 
were  different  in  his  day — and  especially  boys  in  book 
shops.  They  read  something  and  knew  something  of 
what  they  handled.  They  had  some  sort  of  aspirations, 
fitful  and  vague  as  these  might  be,  to  become  in  their 
time  bookmen  also.  And  in  those  days  there  still  were 
bookmen — widely-informed,  observant,  devoted  old  book 
men — who  loved  their  trade,  and  adorned  it. 

Thorpe  reflected  that,  as  he  grew  older,  he  was  the 
better  able  to  apprehend  the  admirable  qualities  of  that 
departed  race  of  literature's  servants.  Indeed,  it  seemed 
that  he  had  never  adequately  realized  before  how  proud  a 
man  might  well  be  of  descending  from  a  line  of  such  men. 
The  thought  struck  him  that  very  likely  at  this  identical 
doorway,  two  generations  back,  a  poor,  out-at-the-elbows, 
young  law-student  named  Plowden  had  stood  and  turned 
over  pages  of  books  he  could  not  dream  of  buying.  Per 
haps,  even,  he  had  ventured  inside,  and  deferentially 
picked  acquaintance  with  the  Thorpe  of  the  period,  and 
got  bookish  advice  and  friendly  counsel  for  nothing.  It 
was  of  no  real  significance  that  the  law-student  grew  to 
be  Lord  Chancellor,  and  the  bookseller  remained  a  book- 
i  yseller  ;  in  the  realm  of  actualjyalues,  theJThorpes  were  as 
good  as  the  Plowdens. 

A  customer  came  out  of  the  shop,  and  Thorpe  went  in, 
squeezing  his  way  along  the  narrow  passage  between 
the  tall  rows  of  books,  to  the  small  open  space  at  the  end. 
His  sister  stood  here,  momentarily  occupied  at  a  high 
desk.  She  did  not  look  up. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  IIJ 

"  Well— I  visited  his  Lordship  all  right."  He  an- 
nounced  his  presence  thus  genially. 

"  I  hope  you  're  the  better  for  it,"  she  remarked,  turn 
ing  to  him,  after  a  pause,  her  emotionless,  plain  face. 

"  Oh,  immensely,"  he  affirmed,  with  robust  jocularity. 
"  You  should  have  seen  the  way  they  took  to  me.  It  was 
'  Mr.  Thorpe '  here  and  '  Mr.  Thorpe  '  there,  all  over  the 
place.  Ladies  of  title,  mind  you — all  to  myself  at  break 
fast  two  days  running.  And  such  ladies — finer  than  silk. 
Oh,  it  's  clear  as  daylight — I  was  intended  for  a  fashion 
able  career. ' ' 

She  smiled  in  a  faint,  passive  way.  ' '  Well — they  say 
'  better  late  than  never,'  you  know." 

"  And  after  all,  is  it  so  very  late  ?  "  he  said,  adopting 
her  phrase  as  an  expression  of  his  thought.  "  I  'm  just 
turned  forty,  and  I  feel  like  a  boy.  I  was  looking  at  that 
*  Peerage  '  there,  the  other  day — and  do  you  know,  I  'm 
sixteen  years  younger  than  the  first  L/ord  Plowden  was 
when  they  made  him  a  peer  ?  Why  he  did  n't  even  get 
into  the  House  of  Commons  until  he  was  seven-and-forty." 

' (  You  seem  to  have  the  Plowden  family  on  the  brain, ' ' 
she  commented. 

"  I  might  have  worse  things.  You  've  no  idea,  Lou, 
how  nice  it  all  is.  The  mother,  Lady  Plowden — why  she 
made  me  feel  as  if  I  was  at  the  very  least  a  nephew  of 
hers.  And  so  simple  and  natural  !  She  smiled  at  me, 
and  listened  to  me,  and  said  friendly  things  to  me — why, 
just  as  anybody  might  have  done.  You  '11  just  love  her, 
when  you  know  her. ' ' 

Louisa  laughed  in  his  face.  "  Don't  be  a  fool,  Joel," 
she  adjured  him,  with  a  flash  of  scornful  mirth. 

He  mingled  a  certain  frowning  impatience  with  the 
buoyancy  of  his  smile.  "  Why,  of  course,  you  '11  know 
her,"  he  protested.  "  What  nonsense  you  're  thinking 


114  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

of!  Do  you  suppose  I  'm  going  to  allow  you  to  mess 
about  here  with  second-hand  almanacs,  and  a  sign  in  your 
window  of  *  threepence  in  the  shilling  discount  for  cash, ' 
while  I  'm  a  millionaire  ?  It  's  too  foolish,  I^ou.  You 
annoy  me  by  supposing  such  a  thing  !  ' ' 

"  There  's  no  good  talking  about  it  at  all,"  she  ob 
served,  after  a  little  pause.  "  It  has  n't  come  off  yet,  for 
one  thing.  And  as  I  said  the  other  night,  if  you  want 
to  do  things  for  the  children,  that  's  another  matter. 
They  're  of  an  age  when  they  can  learn  whatever  any 
body  chooses  to  teach  them." 

* '  Where  are  they  now  ?  "  he  asked.  Upon  the  instant 
another  plan  began  to  unfold  itself  in  the  background  of 
his  mind. 

"They  're  both  at  Cheltenham,  though  they  're  at 
different  places,  of  course.  I  was  recommended  to  send 
Julia  there — one  of  our  old  customers  is  a  Governor,  or 
whatever  it  's  called — and  he  got  special  terms  for  her. 
She  was  rather  old,  you  know,  to  go  to  school,  but  he 
arranged  it  very  nicely  for  her — and  there  is  such  a  good 
boys'  college  there,  it  seemed  the  wisest  thing  to  send 
Alfred  too.  Julia  is  to  finish  at  Christmas-time — and  what 
I  'm  going  to  do  with  her  afterward  is  more  than  I 
know." 

' '  Is  she  pretty  ?  ' '  the  uncle  of  Julia  enquired. 

"  She  's  very  nice,"  the  mother  answered,  with  vague 
extenuation  in  her  tone.  "  I  don't  know  about  her  looks 
— she  varies  so  much.  Sometimes  I  think  she  's  pretty — 
and  then  again  I  can't  think  it.  She  's  got  good  features, 
and  she  holds  herself  well,  and  she  's  very  much  the  lady 
— rather  too  much,  I  think,  sometimes — but  it  all  depends 
upon  what  you  call  pretty.  She  's  not  tall,  you  know. 
She  takes  after  her  father's  family.  The  Dabneys  are  all 
little  people." 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  11$ 

Thorpe  seemed  not  to  care  about  the  Dabneys.  ' '  And 
what  's  Alfred  like  ?  "  he  asked. 

' '  He  wants  to  be  an  artist  ! ' '  There  was  a  perceptible 
note  of  apprehension  in  the  mother's  confession. 

"  Well— why  should  n't  he — if  he  's  got  a  bent  that  j 
way  ?  ' '    demanded   Thorpe,    with    reproof  in   his   tone. 
"  Did  you  want  him  to  be  a  shop-keeper  ?  " 

' '  I  should  like  to  see  him  a  doctor, ' '  she  replied  with 
dignity.  ' '  It  was  always  my  idea  for  him. ' ' 

"  Well,  it  's  no  good — even  as  an  idea,"  he  told  her. 
"  Doctors  are  like  parsons — they  can't  keep  up  with  the 
times.  The  age  is  outgrowing  them.  Only  the  fakirs  in 
either  profession  get  anything  out  of  it,  nowadays.  It  's 
all  mystery  and  sleight-of-hand  and  the  confidence  trick — 
medicine  is — and  if  you  have  n't  got  just  the  right  twist 
of  the  wrist,  you  're  not  in  it.  But  an  artist  stands  on 
his  merits.  There  is  his  work — done  by  his  own  hands.  1 
It  speaks  for  itself.  There's  no  deception — it's  easy! 
enough  to  tell  whether  it 's  good  or  bad.  If  the  pic 
tures  are  good,  people  buy  them.  If  they  're  bad,  people 
don't  buy  them.  Of  course,  it  won't  matter  to  Alfred, 
financially  speaking,  whether  his  pictures  sell  well  or  not. 
But  probably  he  'd  give  it  up,  if  he  did  n't  make  a  hit 
of  it. 

"  I  don't  know  that  there  's  any  crying  need  that  he 
should  do  anything.  My  own  idea  for  him,  perhaps, 
would  be  the  Army,  but  I  would  n't  dream  of  forcing  it 
on  him  against  his  will.  I  had  a  bitter  enough  dose  of 
that,  myself,  with  father.  I  'd  try  to  guide  a  youngster, 
yes,  and  perhaps  argue  with  him,  if  I  thought  he  was 
making  a  jack  of  himself — but  I  would  n't  dictate.  If 
Alfred  thinks  he  wants  to  be  an  artist,  in  God's  name  let 
him  go  ahead.  It  can  be  made  a  gentlemanly  trade — and 
the  main  thing  is  that  he  should  be  a  gentleman."  J  I 


Il6  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Louisa  had  listened  to  this  discourse  with  apathetic 
patience.  "  If  you  don't  mind,  I  don't  know  that  I  do," 
she  said  when  it  was  finished.  "  Perhaps  he  would  n't 
have  made  a  good  doctor  ;  he  's  got  a  very  quick  temper. 
He  reminds  me  of  father — oh,  ever  so  much  more  than 
you  do.  He  contradicts  everything  everybody  says.  He 
quite  knows  it  all. ' ' 

"  But  he  's  a  good  fellow,  is  n't  he  ?  "  urged  Thorpe. 
"  I  mean,  he  's  got  his  likable  points  ?  I  'm  going  to  be 
able  to  get  along  with  him  ? ' ' 

"  I  did  n't  get  along  with  him  very  well,"  the  mother 
admitted,  reluctantly,  ' '  but  I  daresay  with  a  man  it  would 
be  different.  You  see,  his  father  was  ill  all  those  four 
years,  and  Alfred  hated  the  shop  as  bad  as  you  did,  and 
perhaps  in  my  worry  I  blamed  him  more  than  was  fair. 
I  want  to  be  fair  to  him,  you  know. ' ' 

' '  But  is  he  a  gentleman  ?  That  puts  it  in  a  word, ' ' 
Thorpe  insisted. 

"  Oh,  mercy  yes,"  L,ouisa  made  ready  answer.  "  My 
only  fear  is— whether  you  won't  find  him  too  much  of  a 
gentleman." 

Thorpe  knitted  his  brows.  "  I  only  hope  we  're  talk 
ing  about  the  same  thing,"  he  said,  in  a  doubtful  tone. 
Before  she  could  speak,  he  lifted  his  hand.  "  Never  mind 
— I  can  see  for  myself  in  ten  minutes  more  than  you  could 
tell  me  in  a  lifetime.  I  've  got  a  plan.  I  'm  going  on 
the  Continent  in  a  few  days'  time,  to  stay  for  three  or  four 
months.  I  've  got  nothing  special  to  do — just  to  travel 
about  and  see  things  and  kill  time — I  shall  probably  go  to 
Italy  and  Switzerland  and  Paris  and  the  Rhine  and  all 
sorts  of  places — and  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  'd  take  the 
two  youngsters  with  me.  I  could  get  acquainted  with 
them,  that  way,  and  they  'd  be  company  for  me.  I  Ve 
been  lonesome  so  long,  it  would  feel  good  to  have  some 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  117 

of  my  own  flesh  and  blood  about  me — and  I  suppose 
they  'd  be  tickled  to  death  to  go." 

"  Their  schooling  and  board  are  paid  for  up  to  Christ 
mas,"  Mrs.  Dabney  objected,  blankly. 

* '  Bah ! ' '  Thorpe  prolonged  the  emphatic  exclamation 
into  something  good-natured,  and  ended  it  with  an  abrupt 
laugh.  "  What  on  earth  difference  does  that  make  ?  I 
could  go  and  buy  their  damned  colleges,  and  let  the  kids 
wear  them  for  breastpins  if  I  wanted  to.  You  said  the 
girl  was  going  to  quit  at  Christmas  in  any  case.  Won't 
she  learn  more  in  four  months  travelling  about  on  the 
Continent,  than  she  would  trotting  around  in  her  own 
tracks  there  at  Cheltenham  ? 

"  And  it  's  even  more  important  for  the  boy.  He  's  of 
an  age  when  he  ought  to  see  something  of  the  world,  and 
I  ought  to  see  something  of  him.  Whatever  he  's  going 
to  do,  it  's  time  that  he  began  getting  his  special  start  for 
it."  He  added,  upon  a  luminous  afterthought  :  ;'  Per 
haps  his  seeing  the  old  Italian  picture  galleries  and  so 
on  will  cure  him  of  wanting  to  be  an  artist." 

The  mother's  air  displayed  resigned  acquiescence  rather 
than  conviction.  "  Well— if  you  really  think  it  's  best," 
she  began,  "  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  object.  Good 
ness  knows,  I  don't  want  to  stand  in  their  way.  Ever 
since  you  sent  that  four  hundred  pounds,  it  has  n't  seemed 
as  if  they  were  my  children  at  all.  They  've  scarcely 
listened  to  me.  And  now  you  come,  and  propose  to  take 
them  out  of  my  hands  altogether — and  all  I  can  say  is — I 
hope  you  feel  entirely  justified.  And  so,  shall  I  write 
them  to  come  home  ?  When  do  you  think  of  starting  ? 
Julia  ought  to  have  some  travelling  clothes." 

"  I  can  wait  till  you  get  her  ready — only  you  must  hurry 
up  about  it. ' ' 

Remembering  something,  he  took  out  his  cheque-book, 


Il8  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

and  spread  it  on  the  desk.  "  I  will  give  you  back  that 
thirty,"  he  said,  as  he  wrote,  "  and  here  's  a  hundred  to 
get  the  youngsters  ready.  You  won't  waste  any  time, 
will  you  ?  and  if  you  want  more  tell  me. ' ' 

A  customer  had  entered  the  shop,  and  Thorpe  made  it 
the  occasion  for  leaving. 

His  sister,  looking  after  her  brother  with  the  cheque  in 
her  hand,  was  conscious  of  a  thought  which  seemed  to 
spell  itself  out  in  visible  letters  before  her  mental  vision. 
"  Even  now  I  don't  believe  in  him,"  the  impalpable 
legend  ran. 


CHAPTER  IX 

ENERAI,  KERVICK  was  by  habit  a  punctual  man, 
and  Thorpe  found  him  hovering,  carefully  gloved 
and  fur-coated,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  luncheon- 
room  when  he  arrived.  It  indeed  still  lacked  a  few  min 
utes  of  the  appointed  hour  when  they  thus  met  and  went 
in  together.  They  were  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  small 
table  out  on  the  balcony,  sufficiently  removed  from  any 
other  to  give  privacy  to  their  conversation. 

By  tacit  agreement,  the  General  ordered  the  luncheon, 
speaking  French  to  the  waiter  throughout.  Divested  of 
his  imposing  great-coat,  he  was  seen  to  be  a  gentleman 
of  meagre  flesh  as  well  as  of  small  stature.  He  had 
the  Roman  nose,  narrow  forehead,  bushing  brows,  and 
sharply-cut  mouth  and  chin  of  a  soldier  grown  old  in  the 
contemplation  of  portraits  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 
His  face  and  neck  were  of  a  dull  reddish  tint,  which 
seemed  at  first  sight  uniformly  distributed :  one  saw  after 
ward  that  it  approached  pallor  at  the  veined  temples,  and 
ripened  into  purple  in  minute  patches  on  the  cheeks  and 
the  tip  of  the  pointed  nose.  Against  this  flushed  skin, 
the  closely-cropped  hair  and  small,  neatly- waxed  mous 
tache  were  very  white  indeed.  It  was  a  thin,  lined,  care 
worn  face,  withal,  which  in  repose,  and  particularly  in 
profile,  produced  an  effect  of  dignified  and  philosophical 
melancholy.  The  General's  over-prominent  light  blue 
eyes  upon  occasion  marred  this  effect,  however,  by  glances 
of  a  bold,  harsh  character,  which  seemed  to  disclose  un- 


120  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

pleasant  depths  below  the  correct  surface.  His  manner 
with  the  waiters  was  abrupt  and  sharp,  but  undoubtedly 
they  served  him  very  well — much  better,  in  truth,  than 
Thorpe  had  ever  seen  them  serve  anybody  before. 

Thorpe  observed  his  guest  a  good  deal  during  the 
repast,  and  formed  numerous  conclusions  about  him. 
He  ate  with  palpable  relish  of  every  dish,  and  he  emptied 
his  glass  as  promptly  as  his  host  could  fill  it.  There 
was  hardly  a  word  of  explanation  as  to  the  purpose  of 
their  meeting,  until  the  coffee  was  brought,  and  they 
pushed  back  their  chairs,  crossed  their  legs,  and  lighted 
cigars. 

"  I  was  lucky  to  catch  you  with  my  wire,  at  such  short 
notice,"  Thorpe  said  then.  "  I  sent  two,  you  know — to 
your  chambers  and  your  club.  Which  of  them  found 
you?" 

"  Chambers,"  said  the  General.  "  I  rarely  dress  till 
luncheon  time.  I  read  in  bed.  There  's  really  nothing 
else  to  do.  Idleness  is  the  curse  of  my  life. ' ' 

"  I  've  been  wondering  if  you  'd  like  a  little  occupation 
— of  a  well-paid  sort, ' '  said  Thorpe  slowly.  He  realized 
that  it  was  high  time  to  invent  some  pretext  for  his  hur 
ried  summons  of  the  General. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  responded  the  other,  "  I  should  like 
anything  that  had  money  in  it.  And  I  should  very  much 
like  occupation,  too— if  it  were,  of  course,  something  that 
was — was  suitable  to  me." 

"  Yes,"  said  Thorpe,  meditatively.  "  I  've  something 
in  my  mind — not  at  all  definite  yet — in  fact,  I  don't  think 
I  can  even  outline  it  to  you  yet.  But  I  'm  sure  it  will 
suit  you — that  is,  if  I  decide  to  go  on  with  it — and  there 
ought  to  be  seven  or  eight  hundred  a  year  for  you  in  it — • 
for  life,  mind  you." 

The  General's  gaze,  fastened  strenuously  upon  Thorpe,, 


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shook  a  little.  "  That  will  suit  me  very  well,"  he  de 
clared,  with  feeling.  "  Whatever  I  can  do  for  it" — he 
let  the  sentence  end  itself  with  a  significant  gesture. 

* '  I  thought  so, ' '  commented  the  other,  trifling  with  the 
spoon  in  his  cup.  * '  But  I  want  you  to  be  open  with  me. 
I  'm  interested  in  you,  and  I  want  to  be  of  use  to  you. 
All  that  I  've  said,  I  can  do  for  you.  But  first,  I  'm 
curious  to  know  everything  that  you  can  tell  me  about 
your  circumstances.  I  'm  right  in  assuming,  I  suppose, 
that  you  're — that  you  're  not  any  too  well-fixed." 

The  General  helped  himself  to  another  little  glass  of 
brandy.  His  mood  seemed  to  absorb  the  spirit  of  the 
liqueur.  '  *  Fixed  !  "  he  repeated,  with  a  peevish  snap  in 
his  tone.  "  I  'm  not '  fixed  '  at  all,  as  you  call  it.  Good 
God,  sir  !  They  no  more  care  what  becomes  of  me  than 
they  do  about  their  old  gloves.  I  gave  them  name  and 
breeding  and  position — and  everything — and  they  round 
on  me  like — like  cuckoos."  His  pale,  bulging  eyes  lifted 
their  passionless  veil  for  an  instant  as  he  spoke,  and  flashed 
with  the  predatory  fierceness  of  a  hawk. 

Intuition  helped  Thorpe  to  guess  whom  "  they  "  might 
mean.  The  temper  visibly  rising  in  the  old  man's  mind 
was  what  he  had  hoped  for.  He  proceeded  with  an  in 
formed  caution.  "  Don't  be  annoyed  if  I  touch  upon 
family  matters,"  he  said.  "  It  's  a  part  of  what  I  must 
know,  in  order  to  help  you.  I  believe  you  're  a  widower, 
are  n't  you,  General  ?  " 

The  other,  after  a  quick  upward  glance,  shook  his  head 
resentfully.  "  Mrs.  Kervick  lives  in  Italy  with  her  son- 
in-law — and  her  daughter.  He  is  a  man  of  property — and 
also,  apparently,  a  man  of  remarkable  credulity  and  pa 
tience."  He  paused,  to  scan  his  companion's  face.  "  They 
divide  him  between  them,"  he  said  then,  from  clenched 
teeth — ' l  and  I — mind  you — /  made  the  match  !  He  was 


122  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

a  young  fellow  that  /found — and  /brought  him  home  and 
introduced  him — and  I  have  n't  so  much  as  an  Italian 
postage-stamp  to  show  for  it.  But  what  interest  can  you 
possibly  take  in  all  this  ?  ' '  The  unamiable  glance  of  his 
eyes  was  on  the  instant  surcharged  with  suspicion. 

' '  How  many  daughters  have  you  ?  ' '  Thorpe  ventured 
the  enquiry  with  inward  doubts  as  to  its  sagacity. 

"  Three,"  answered  the  General,  briefly.  It  was  evi 
dent  that  he  was  also  busy  thinking. 

' '  I  ask  because  I  met  one  of  them  in  the  country  over 
Sunday, ' '  Thorpe  decided  to  explain. 

The  old  soldier's  eyes  asked  many  questions  in  the 
moment  of  silence.  ' '  Which  one — Edith  ? — that  is,  Lady 
Cressage  ?  "  he  enquired.  ' '  Of  course — it  would  have 
been  her. " 

Thorpe  nodded.  "  She  made  a  tremendous  impression 
upon  me,"  he  observed,  watching  the  father  with  intent- 
ness  as  he  let  the  slow  words  fall. 

"  Well  she  might,"  the  other  replied,  simply.  "  She  's 
supposed  to  be  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  England." 

' '  Well — I  guess  she  is, ' '  Thorpe  assented,  while  the 
two  men  eyed  each  other. 

"  Is  the  third  sister  unmarried  ?  "  it  occurred  to  him  to 
ask.  The  tone  of  the  question  revealed  its  perfunctory 
character. 

<f  Oh — Beatrice — she  's  of  no  importance,"  the  father 
replied.  "  She  goes  in  for  writing,  and  all  that — she  's 
not  a  beauty,  you  know — she  lives  with  an  old  lady  in 
Scotland.  The  oldest  daughter — Blanche — she  has  some 
good  looks  of  her  own,  but  she  's  a  cat.  And  so  you  met 
Edith  !  May  I  ask  where  it  was  ?  ' ' 

"  At  Hadlow  House — Lord  Plowden's  place,  you 
know." 

The  General's  surprise  at  the  announcement  was  un- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE 

doubted.  "  At  Plowden's  !  "  he  repeated,  and  added,  as 
if  half  to  himself,  "  I  thought  that  was  all  over  with, 
long  ago." 

"  I  wish  you  'd  tell  me  about  it,"  said  Thorpe,  daringly. 
"  I  've  made  it  plain  to  you,  have  n't  I  ?  I  'm  going  to 
look  out  for  you.  And  I  want  you  to  post  me  up,  here, 
on  some  of  the  things  that  I  don't  understand.  You  re 
member  that  it  was  Plowden  who  introduced  you  to  me, 
don't  you  ?  It  was  through  him  that  you  got  on  the 
Board.  Well,  certain  things  that  I  've  seen  lead  me  to 
suppose  that  he  did  that  in  order  to  please  your  daughter. 
Did  you  understand  it  that  way  ?  ' ' 

"  It 's  quite  likely,  in  one  sense,"  returned  the  General. 
He  spoke  with  much  deliberation  now,  weighing  all  his 
words.  ' '  He  may  have  thought  it  would  please  her  ;  he 
may  not  have  known  how  little  my  poor  affairs  concerned 
her." 

"  Well,  then,"  pursued  Thorpe,  argumentatively,  "  he 
had  an  object  in  pleasing  her.  L,et  me  ask  the  question — 
did  he  want  to  marry  her  ?  ' ' 

"  Most  men  want  to  marry  her,"  was  the  father's  non 
committal  response.  His  moustache  lifted  itself  in  the 
semblance  of  a  smile,  but  the  blue  eyes  above  remained 
coldly  vigilant. 

' '  Well— I  guess  that ' s  so  too, ' '  Thorpe  remarked.  He 
made  a  fleeting  mental  note  that  there  was  something 
about  the  General  which  impelled  him  to  think  and  talk 
more  like  an  American  than  ever.  "  But  was  he  specially 
affected  that  way  ?" 

"  I  think,"  said  Kervick,  judicially,  "  I  think  it  was 
understood  that  if  he  had  been  free  to  marry  a  penniless 
wife,  he  would  have  wished  to  marry  her." 

"  Do  you  know,"  Thorpe  began  again,  with  a  kind  of 
diffident  hesitation — * '  do  you  happen  to  have  formed  an 


124  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

idea — supposing  that  had  been  the  case — would  she  have 
accepted  him  ?  ' ' 

"  Ah,  there  you  have  me,"  replied  the  other.  "  Who 
can  tell  what  women  will  accept,  and  what  they  will 
refuse  ?  My  daughter  refused  Lord  Lingfield — and  he 
is  an  Under-Secretary,  and  will  be  Karl  Chobham,  and  a 
Cabinet  Minister,  and  a  rich  man.  After  that,  what  are 
you  to  say  ?  ' ' 

"  You  speak  of  her  as  penniless,"  Thorpe  remarked, 
with  a  casual  air. 

"Six  hundred  a  year,"  the  father  answered.  "We 
could  have  rubbed  along  after  a  fashion  on  it,  if  she  had 
had  any  notions  at  all  of  taking  my  advice.  I  'm  a  man 
of  the  world,  and  I  could  have  managed  her  affairs  for  her 
to  her  advantage,  but  she  insisted  upon  going  off  by  her 
self.  She  showed  not  the  slightest  consideration  for  me 
— but  then  I  am  accustomed  to  that." 

Thorpe  smiled  reflectively,  and  the  old  gentleman  read 
in  this  an  encouragement  to  expand  his  grievances. 

"  In  my  position,"  he  continued,  helping  himself  to  still 
another  tiny  glass,  "  I  naturally  say  very  little.  It  is  not 
my  form  to  make  complaints  and  advertise  my  misfortunes. 
I  daresay  it  's  a  fault.  I  know  it  kept  me  back  in  India 
— while  ever  so  many  whipper-snappers  were  promoted 
over  my  head — because  I  was  of  the  proud  and  silent  sort. 
It  was  a  mistake,  but  it  was  my  nature.  I  might  have 
put  by  a  comfortable  provision  for  my  old  age,  in  those 
days,  if  I  had  been  willing  to  push  my  claims,  and  worry 
the  Staff  into  giving  me  what  was  my  due.  But  that  I 
declined  to  do — and  when  I  was  retired,  there  was  nothing 
for  me  but  the  ration  of  bread  and  salt  which  they  serve 
out  to  the  old  soldier  who  has  been  too  modest.  I  served 
my  Queen,  sir,  for  forty  years — and  I  should  be  ashamed 
to  tell  you  the  allowance  she  makes  me  in  my  old  age. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  12$ 

But  I  do  not  complain.  My  mouth  is  closed.  I  am  an 
.English  gentleman  and  one  of  Her  Majesty's  soldiers. 
That  's  enough  said,  eh  ?  Do  you  follow  me  ?  And 
about  my  family  affairs,  I  'm  not  likely  to  talk  to  the  first 
comer,  eh  ?  But  to  you  I  say  it  frankly — they  've  be 
haved  badly,  damned  badly,  sir. 

"  Mrs.  Kervick  lives  in  Italy,  at  the  cost  of  her  son-in- 
law.  He  has  large  estates  in  one  of  the  healthiest  and 
most  beautiful  parts  ;  he  has  a  palace,  and  more  money 
than  he  knows  what  to  do  with — but  it  seems  that  he  's 
not  my  son-in-law.  I  could  do  with  Italy  very  well — but 
that  does  n't  enter  into  anyone's  calculations.  No  !  let 
the  worn-out  old  soldier  sell  boot-laces  on  the  kerb  ! 
That  's  the  spirit  of  woman-kind.  And  my  daughter 
Edith — does  she  care  what  becomes  of  me  ?  Listen  to  me 
— I  secured  for  her  the  very  greatest  marriage  in  England. 
She  would  have  been  Duchess  of  Glastonbury  today  if  her 
husband  had  not  played  the  fool  and  drowned  himself. ' ' 

"  What  's  that  you  say  ?  "  put  in  Thorpe,  swiftly. 

"  It  was  as  good  as  suicide,"  insisted  the  General,  with 
doggedness.  His  face  had  become  a  deeper  red.  "  They 
did  n't  hit  it  off  together,  and  he  left  in  a  huff,  and  went 
yachting  with  his  father,  who  was  his  own  sailing-master 
— and,  as  might  be  expected,  they  were  both  drowned. 
The  title  would  have  gone  to  her  son — but  no,  of  course, 
she  had  no  son — and  so  it  passed  to  a  stranger — an  out 
sider  that  had  been  an  usher  in  a  school,  or  something  of 
that  sort.  You  can  fancy  what  a  blow  this  was  to  me. 
Instead  of  being  the  grandfather  of  a  Duke,  I  have  a  child 
less  widow  thrust  back  upon  my  hands  !  Fine  luck,  eh  ? 
And  then,  to  cap  all,  she  takes  her  six  hundred  a  year 
and  goes  off  by  herself,  and  gives  me  the  cold  shoulder 
completely.  What  is  it  Shakespeare  says  ?  '  How 
sharper  than  a  serpent's  teeth  '— 


126  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Thorpe  brought  his  fist  down  upon  the  table  with  an 
emphasis  which  abruptly  broke  the  quotation  in  half.  He 
had  been  frowning  moodily  at  his  guest  for  some  minutes, 
relighting  his  cigar  more  than  once  meanwhile.  He  had 
made  a  mental  calculation  of  what  the  old  man  had  had 
to  drink,  and  had  reassured  himself  as  to  his  condition. 
His  garrulity  might  have  an  alcoholic  basis,  but  his  wits 
were  clear  enough.  It  was  time  to  take  a  new  line  with 
him. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  you  abuse  your  daughter,"  he 
admonished  him  now,  with  a  purpose  glowing  steadily  in 
his  firm  glance.  "  Damn  it  all,  why  should  n't  she  go 
off  by  herself,  and  take  care  of  her  own  money  her  own 
way  ?  It  's  little  enough,  God  knows,  for  such  a  lady  as 
she  is.  Why  should  you  expect  her  to  support  you  out 
of  it  ?  No— sit  still  !  Listen  to  me  !  "—he  stretched  out 
his  hand,  and  laid  it  with  restraining  heaviness  upon  the 
General's  arm — "  you  don't  want  to  have  any  row  with 
me.  You  can't  afford  it.  Just  think  that  over  to  your 
self — you — can' t — afford — it. ' ' 

Major-General  Kervick's  prominent  blue  eyes  had 
bulged  forth  in  rage  till  their  appearance  had  disconcerted 
the  other's  gaze.  They  remained  still  too  much  in  the 
foreground,  as  it  were,  and  the  angry  scarlets  and  violets 
of  the  cheeks  beneath  them  carried  an  unabated  threat  of 
apoplexy — but  their  owner,  after  a  moment's  silence,  made 
a  sign  with  his  stiff  white  brows  that  the  crisis  was  over. 
"  You  must  remember  that — that  I  have  a  father's  feel 
ings,"  he  gasped  then,  huskily. 

Thorpe  nodded,  with  a  nonchalance  which  was  not 
wholly  affected.  He  had  learned  what  he  wanted  to  know 
about  this  veteran.  If  he  had  the  fierce  meannesses  of  a 
famished  old  dog,  he  had  also  a  dog's  awe  of  a  stick.  It 
was  almost  too  easy  to  terrorize  him. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  I2/ 

'  *  Oh,  I  make  allowances  for  all  that, ' '  Thorpe  began, 
vaguely.  "  But  it  's  important  that  you  should  under 
stand  me.  I  'm  this  sort  of  a  man  :  whatever  I  set  out  to 
do,  and  put  my  strength  into  it,  that  I  do  !  I  kill  every 
pheasant  I  fire  at ;  Plowden  will  tell  you  that  !  It  's  a 
way  I  have.  To  those  that  help  me,  and  are  loyal  to  me, 
I  'm  the  best  friend  in  the  world.  To  those  that  get  in 
my  way,  or  try  to  trip  me  up,  I  'm  the  devil — just  plain 
devil.  Now  then — you  're  getting  three  hundred  a  year 
from  my  Company,  that  is  to  say  from  me,  simply  to  oblige 
my  friend  Plowden.  You  don't  do  anything  to  earn  this 
money  ;  you  're  of  no  earthly  use  on  the  Board.  If  I 
chose,  I  could  put  you  off  at  the  end  of  the  year  as  easily 
as  I  can  blow  out  this  match.  But  I  propose  not  only  to 
keep  you  on,  but  to  make  you  independent.  Why  do  I 
do  that  ?  You  should  ask  yourself  that  question.  It 
can't  be  on  account  of  anything  you  can  do  for  the  Com 
pany.  What  else  then  ?  Why,  first  and  foremost,  because 
you  are  the  father  of  your  daughter." 

"Let  me  tell  you  the  kind  of  man  I  am,"  said  the 
General,  inflating  his  chest,  and  speaking  with  so 
lemnity. 

"  Oh,  I  know  the  kind  of  man  you  are,"  Thorpe  inter 
rupted  him,  coolly,  "/want  to  talk  now." 

"  It  was  merely,"  Kervick  ventured,  in  an  injured 
tone,  "  that  I  can  be  as  loyal  as  any  man  alive  to  a 
true  friend." 

"Well,  I  '11  be  the  true  friend,  then,"  said  Thorpe, 
with  impatient  finality.  "  And  now  this  is  what  I  want 
to  say.  I  'm  going  to  be  a  very  rich  man.  You  're  not 
to  say  so  to  anybody,  mind  you,  until  the  thing  speaks 
for  itself.  We  're  keeping  dark  for  a  few  months,  d'  ye 
see  ? — lying  low.  Then,  as  I  say,  I  shall  be  a  very  rich 
man.  Well  now,  I  would  n't  give  a  damn  to  be  rich,  un- 


128  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

less  I  did  with  my  money  the  things  that  I  wanted  to  do, 
and  got  the  things  with  it  that  I  wanted  to  get.  What 
ever  takes  my  fancy,  that  's  what  I  '11  do." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  mentally  to  scrutinize  a  brand- 
new  project  which  seemed,  by  some  surreptitious  agency, 
to  have" already  taken  his  fancy.  It  was  a  curious  pro 
ject  ;  there  were  attractive  things  about  it,  and  objections 
to  it  suggested  themselves  as  well. 

11  I  may  decide,"  he  began  speaking  again,  still  revolv 
ing  this  hypothetical  scheme  in  his  thoughts — "  I  may 
want  to — well,  here  's  what  occurs  to  me  as  an  off-chance. 
I  take  an  interest  in  your  daughter,  d'  ye  see  ?  and  it 
seems  a  low-down  sort  of  thing  to  me  that  she  should  be 
so  poor.  Well,  then — I  might  say  to  you,  here  's  two 
thousand  a  year,  say,  made  over  to  you  in  your  name,  on 
the  understanding  that  you  turn  over  half  of  it,  say,  to 
her.  She  could  take  it  from  you,  of  course,  as  her  father. 
You  could  say  you  made  it  out  of  the  Company.  Of 
course  it  might  happen,  later  on,  that  I  might  like  to  have 
a  gentle  hint  dropped  to  her,  d'  ye  see,  as  to  where  it 
really  came  from.  Mind,  I  don't  say  this  is  what  is  going 
to  be  done.  It  merely  occurred  to  me." 

After  waiting  for  a  moment  for  some  comment,  he  added 
a  second  thought  :  <l  You  'd  have  to  set  about  making 
friends  with  her,  you  know.  In  any  case,  you  'd  better 
begin  at  that  at  once," 

The  General  remained  buried  in  reflection.  He  lighted 
a  cigarette,  and  poured  out  for  himself  still  another  petit 
verre.  His  pursed  lips  and  knitted  brows  were  eloquent 
of  intense  mental  activity. 

"  Well,  do  you  see  any  objections  to  it  ?  "  demanded 
Thorpe,  at  last. 

"  I  do  not  quite  see  the  reasons  for  it,"  answered  the 
other,  slowly.  "  What  would  you  gain  by  it  ?  " 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  129 

"  How  do  you  mean — gain  ?  "  put  in  the  other,  with 
peremptory  intolerance  of  tone. 

General  Kervick  spread  his  hands  in  a  quick  little 
gesture.  These  hands  were  withered,  but  remarkably 
well-kept.  <{  I  suppose  one  does  n't  do  something  for 
nothing,"  he  said.  "  I  see  what  I  would  gain,  and  what 
she  would  gain,  but  I  confess  I  don't  see  what  advantage 
you  would  get  out  of  it." 

"  No-o,  I  daresay  you  don't,"  assented  Thorpe,  with 
sneering  serenity.  "  But  what  does  that  matter?  You 
admit  that  you  see  what  you  would  gain.  That ' s  enough, 
is  n't  it?" 

The  older  man's  veined  temples  twitched  for  an  instant. 
He  straightened  himself  in  his  chair,  and  looked  hard  at 
his  companion.  There  was  a  glistening  of  moisture  about 
his  staring  eyes. 

"  It  surely  is  n't  necessary — among  gentlemen" — he 
began,  cautiously  picking  his  phrases — "  to  have  quite  so 
much  that  's  unpleasant,  is  it  ?  " 

"  No — you  're  right — I  did  n't  mean  to  be  so  rough," 
Thorpe  declared,  with  spontaneous  contrition.  Upon  the 
instant,  however,  he  perceived  the  danger  that  advantage 
might  be  taken  of  his  softness.  "  I  'm  a  plain-spoken 
man,"  he  went  on,  with  a  hardening  voice,  "  and  people 
must  take  me  as  they  find  me.  All  I  said  was,  in  sub 
stance,  that  I  intended  to  be  of  service  to  you — and  that 
that  ought  to  interest  you." 

The  General  seemed  to  have  digested  his  pique.  '  *  And 
what  I  was  trying  to  say,"  he  commented  deferentially, 
' '  was  that  I  thought  I  saw  ways  of  being  of  service  to 
you.  But  that  did  not  seem  to  interest  you  at  all." 

"How — service?"  Thorpe,  upon  consideration,  con 
sented  to  ask. 

"  I  know  my  daughter  so  much  better  than  you  do," 

9 


I3O  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

explained  the  other  ;  "  I  know  Plowden  so  much  better  ; 
I  am  so  much  more  familiar  with  the  whole  situation  than 
you  can  possibly  be — I  wonder  that  you  won't  listen  to 
my  opinion.  I  don't  suggest  that  you  should  be  guided 
by  it,  but  I  think  you  should  hear  it." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  Thorpe  declared,  readily  enough. 
"  What  is  your  opinion  ?  " 

General  Kervick  sipped  daintily  at  his  glass,  and  then 
gave  an  embarrassed  little  laugh.  "  But  I  can't  form 
what  you  might  call  an  opinion,"  he  protested,  apologetic 
ally,  "  till  I  understand  a  bit  more  clearly  what  it  is  you 
propose  to  yourself.  You  must  n't  be  annoyed  if  I  return 
to  that — '  still  harping  on  my  daughter,'  you  know.  It 
I  must  ask  the  question — is  it  your  wish  to  marry  her  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  looked  blankly  at  his  companion,  as  if  he  were 
thinking  of  something  else.  When  he  spoke,  it  was  with 
no  trace  of  consciousness  that  the  question  had  been 
unduly  intimate. 

"  I  can't  in  the  least  be  sure  that  I  shall  ever  marry," 
he  replied,  thoughtfully.  ' '  I  may,  and  I  may  not.  But 
— starting  with  that  proviso — I  suppose  I  have  n't  seen 
any  other  woman  that  I  'd  rather  think  about  marrying 
than — than  the  lady  we  're  speaking  of.  However,  you 
see  it  's  all  in  the  air,  so  far  as  my  plans  go." 

"  In  the  air  be  it,"  the  soldier  acquiesced,  plausibly. 
"  Let  us  consider  it  as  if  it  were  in  the  air — a  possible  con 
tingency.  This  is  what  I  would  say — My—'  the  lady  we 
are  speaking  of '  is  by  way  of  being  a  difficult  lady — '  un 
certain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please '  as  Scott  says,  you  know 
— and  it  must  be  a  very  skilfully-dressed  fly  indeed  which 
brings  her  to  the  surface.  She  's  been  hooked  once,  mind, 
and  she  has  a  horror  of  it.  Her  husband  was  the  most 
frightful  brute  and  ruffian,  you  know.  I  was  strongly 
opposed  to  the  marriage,  but  her  mother  carried  it  through. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  13! 

But — yes — about  her — I  think  she  is  afraid  to  marry  again.  ; 
If  she  does  ever  consent,  it  will  be  because  poverty  has 
broken  her  nerve.  If  she  is  kept  on  six  hundred  a  year, 
she  may  be  starved,  so  to  speak,  into  taking  a  husband. 
If  she  had  sixteen  hundred — either  she  would  never  marry 
at  all,  or  she  would  be  free  to  marry  some  handsome  young 
pauper  who  caught  her  fancy.  That  would  be  particularly 
like  her.  You  would  be  simply  endowing  some  needy 
fellow,  beside  losing  her  for  yourself.  D'  ye  follow  me  ? 
If  you  '11  leave  it  to  me,  I  can  find  a  much  better  way  than 
that — better  for  all  of  us." 

* '  Hm  ! ' '  said  Thorpe,  and  pondered  the  paternal  state 
ment.  "  I  see  what  you  mean,"  he  remarked  at  last. 
"Yes— I  see." 

The  General  preserved  silence  for  what  seemed  a  long 
time,  deferring  to  the  reverie  of  his  host.  When  finally 
he  offered  a  diversion,  in  the  form  of  a  remark  about  the 
hour,  Thorpe  shook  himself,  and  then  ponderously  rose 
to  his  feet.  He  took  his  hat  and  coat  from  the  waiter,  and 
made  his  way  out  without  a  word. 

At  the  vStreet  door,  confronting  the  waning  foliage  of 
the  Embankment  garden,  Kervick  was  emboldened  to  re 
call  to  him  the  fact  of  his  presence.  "  Which  way  are 
you  going  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Thorpe  answered  absently.  "  I  think 
— I  think  I  '11  take  a  walk  on  the  Embankment — by 
myself." 

The  General  could  not  repress  all  symptoms  of  uneasi 
ness.  ' '  But  when  am  I  to  see  you  again  ?  "  he  enquired, 
with  an  effect  of  solicitude  that  defied  control. 

' '  See  me  ?  "  Thorpe  spoke  as  if  the  suggestion  took 
him  by  surprise. 

* '  There  are  things  to  be  settled,  are  there  not  ?  ' '  the 
other  faltered,  in  distressed  doubt  as  to  the  judicious  tone 


132  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

to  take.  "  You  spoke,  you  know,  of— of  some  employ 
ment  that — that  would  suit  me. ' ' 

Thorpe  shook  himself  again,  and  seemed  by  an  effort  to 
recall  his  wandering  attention.  "  Oh  yes,"  he  said,  with 
lethargic  vagueness — "  I  have  n't  thought  it  out  yet. 
I  '11  let  you  know — within  the  week,  probably." 

With  the  briefest  of  nods,  he  turned  and  crossed  the 
road.  Walking  heavily,  with  rounded  shoulders  and 
hands  plunged  deep  in  his  overcoat  pockets,  he  went 
through  the  gateway,  and  chose  a  path  at  random.  To 
the  idlers  on  the  garden  benches  who  took  note  of  him  as 
he  passed,  he  gave  the  impression  of  one  struggling  with 
nausea.  To  his  own  blurred  consciousness,  he  could  not 
say  which  stirred  most  vehemently  within  him,  his  loath- 
,  ing  for  the  creature  he  had  fed  and  bought,  or  his  bitter 
self-disgust. 

The  General,  standing  with  exaggerated  exactness 
upon  the  doorstep,  had  followed  with  his  bulging  eyes 
the  receding  figure.  He  stood  still  regarding  the  gate 
way,  mentally  summarizing  the  events  of  the  day,  after 
the  other  had  vanished.  At  last,  nestling  his  chin  com 
fortably  into  the  fur  of  his  collar,  he  smiled  with  self- 
I  satisfaction.  "  After  all,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  there  are 
always  ways  of  making  a  cad  feel  that  he  is  a  cad,  in  the 
presence  of  a  gentleman. ' ' 


CHAPTER  X 

ON  a  Sunday  afternoon,  early  in  February,  Thorpe 
journeyed  with  his  niece  and  nephew  from  Bern 
to  Montreux. 

The  young  people,  with  maps  and  a  guide-book  open,  sat 
close  together  at  the  left  side  of  the  compartment.  The 
girl  from  time  to  time  rubbed  the  steam  from  the  window 
with  a  napkin  out  of  the  lunch-basket.  They  both  stared 
a  good  deal  through  this  window,  with  frequent  exclama 
tions  of  petulance. 

"  Is  n't  it  too  provoking  !  "  cried  the  girl,  turning  to 
her  uncle  at  last.  "  This  is  where  we  are  now — according 
to  Baedeker  :  '  As  the  train  proceeds  we  enjoy  a  view  of 
the  Simmen-Thal  and  Freiburg  mountains  to  the  left,  the 
Moleson  being  conspicuous.'  And  look  at  it  !  For  all 
one  can  see,  we  might  as  well  be  at  Redhill." 

"It  is  pretty  hard  luck,"  Thorpe  assented,  passively 
glancing  past  her  at  the  pale,  neutral-tinted  wall  of  mist 
Which  obscured  the  view.  "  But  hang  it  all — it  must 
clear  up  some  time.  Just  you  have  patience,  and  you  '11 
see  some  Alps  yet. ' ' 

"  Where  we  're  going,"  the  young  man  interposed, 
"  the  head-porter  told  me  it  was  always  cloudier  than 
anywhere  else." 

"  I  don't  think  that  can  be  so,"  Thorpe  reasoned, 
languidly,  from  his  corner.  "  It  's  a  great  winter  resort, 
I  'm  told,  and  it  rather  stands  to  reason,  does  n't  it  ?  that 
people  would  n't  flock  there  if  it  was  so  bad  as  all  that." 

133 


134  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  The  kind  of  people  we  've  seen  travelling  in  Switzer 
land,"  said  the  girl — "  they  would  do  anything." 

Thorpe  smiled,  with  tolerant  good  humour.  "  Well, 
you  can  comfort  yourself  with  the  notion  that  you  '11  be 
coming  again.  The  mountains  '11  stay  here,  all  right," 
he  assured  her.  The  young  people  smiled  back  at  him, 
and  with  this  he  rearranged  his  feet  in  a  new  posture  on 
the  opposite  seat,  lighted  another  cigar,  and  pillowed  his 
head  once  more  against  the  hard,  red-plush  cushion. 
Personally,  he  did  not  in  the  least  resent  the  failure  of  the 
scenery. 

For  something  more  than  three  months,  this  purpose 
less  pleasure-tour  had  been  dragging  him  about  from  point 
to  point,  sleeping  in  strange  beds,  eating  extraordinarily 
strange  food,  transacting  the  affairs  of  a  sight-seer  among 
people  who  spoke  strange  languages,  until  he  was  sur 
feited  with  the  unusual.  It  had  all  been  extremely  inter 
esting,  of  course,  and  deeply  improving — but  he  was 
getting  tired  of  talking  to  nobody  but  waiters,  and  still 
more  so  of  having  nothing  to  do  which  he  could  not  as 
well  leave  undone  if  he  chose. 

After  a  few  days  more  of  Switzerland — for  they  had 
already  gazed  with  blank  faces  at  this  universal  curtain 
of  mist  from  such  different  points  of  view  as  Lucerne, 
Interlaken,  and  Thun — it  was  clear  to  him  that  they  would, 
as  he  phrased  it,  to  himself,  make  a  break  for  home.  Un 
less,  indeed,  something  happened  at  Montreux.  Ah, 
would  anything  happen  at  Montreux  ?  For  four  days  his 
mind  had  been  automatically  reverting  to  that  question  ; 
it  lurked  continually  in  the  background  of  his  thoughts, 
now,  as  he  smoked  and  idly  ruminated,  on  his  way  south 
ward  through  the  fog. 

All  the  rest  of  the  prolonged  trip  had  been  without  any 
specific  motive,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned.  The  youngsters 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  135 

had  planned  all  its  routes  and  halts  and  details  of  time 
and  connections,  and  he  had  gone  along,  with  cheerful 
placidity,  to  look  at  the  things  they  bade  him  observe, 
and  to  pay  the  bills.     Perhaps  in  all  things  their  tastes 
had  not  been  his  tastes.     He  would  have  liked  more  of 
Paris,  he  fancied,  and  less  of  the  small  Dutch  and  North 
German   towns  which   they  seemed  to  fancy  so  much. . 
Still,  the  beer  was  good — and  really  their  happiness,  as  a 
spectacle,  had  given  him  more  satisfaction  than  a  thou-j 
sand  miles  of  boulevards  could  have  done. 

He  liked  this  niece  and  nephew  of  his  more  than  he 
could  ever  have  imagined  himself  liking  any  young  people. 
They  had  been  shy  with  him  at  the  outset — and  for  the 
first  week  his  experiment  had  been  darkened  by  the  belief 
that,  between  themselves,  they  did  not  deem  him  quite 
good  enough.  He  had  been  wise  enough,  then,  to  have 
it  out  with  the  girl — she  was  the  one  to  whom  he  felt  it 
easiest  to  talk  frankly — and  had  discovered,  to  his  im 
mense  relief,  that  they  conceived  him  to  be  regarding 
them  as  encumbrances.  At  breakfast  next  morning,  with 
tactful  geniality,  he  set  everything  right,  and  thereafter 
they  were  all  extremely  happy  together. 

So  far  as  he  could  judge,  they  were  very  superior  young 
people,  both  intellectually  and  spiritually.  The  girl 
spoke  French,  and  her  brother  German,  with  what  seemed 
to  him  remarkable  proficiency.  Their  young  minds  were 
the  repositories  of  an  astounding  amount  of  information  : 
they  knew  who  Charles  the  Bold  was  ;  they  pointed  out 
to  their  uncle  the  distinction  between  Gothic  and  Roman 
esque  arches  ;  they  explained  what  was  the  matter  with 
the  Anabaptists  ;  they  told  him  that  the  story  of  the 
Bishop  and  the  rats  at  Bingen  was  a  baseless  myth,  and 
that  probably  there  had  never  been  any  such  man  as 
William  Tell.  Nor  did  they  get  all  this  out  of  the  guide- 


136  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

books  which  they  pored  over  with  such  zest.  It  was 
impossible  not  to  see  that  they  were  familiar  with  large 
numbers  of  the  subjects  that  these  books  discussed,  and 
that  the  itinerary  which  they  marked  out  had  reference  to 
desires  and  interests  that  they  had  cultivated  for  them 
selves. 

Julia,  upon  even  first  sight,  made  a  much  pleasanter 
impression  than  her  mother's  hesitating  description  had 
prepared  him  for.  As  he  came  to  know  her  well,  he 
ceased  to  remember  that  there  was  a  question  in  any 
mind  as  to  her  being  a  pretty  girl.  There  was  less  colour 
in  her  face  than  he  could  have  wished.  Her  smooth, 
pallid  skin,  almost  waxen  in  texture,  had  a  suggestion  of 
delicate  health  which  sometimes  troubled  him  a  little,  but 
which  appealed  to  the  tenderness  in  his  nature  all  the 
time.  The  face  was  unduly  thin,  perhaps,  but  this,  and 
the  wistful  glance  of  the  large  grey  eyes  in  repose,  made 
up  an  effect  that  Thorpe  found  touched  him  a  good  deal. 
Even  when  she  was  in  visibly  high  spirits,  the  look  in 
these  eyes  seemed  to  him  to  be  laying  claim  to  his  pro- 
tection.  She  could  be  merry  upon  occasion,  in  a  gentle 
and  tranquil  way,  and  as  her  self-confidence  expanded 
under  the  shelter  of  their  growing  intimacy,  she  disclosed 
to  her  uncle  plenty  of  initiative  and  individuality — but 
what  he  felt  in  her  most  was  a  peculiarly  sweet  and  girlish 
trustfulness,  which  made  him  like  himself  more  than  he 
had  ever  done  before.  He  could  feel  that  he  was  at  his 
very  best— a  hitherto  unsuspected  best — when  Julia  was 
about.  He  wanted  to  buy  for  her  everything  in  the  win 
dows  upon  which  she  bestowed  the  most  casual  approving 
glance.  It  was  a  delight  merely  to  look  at  her,  and  to 
meditate  upon  the  felicity  of  being  able  to  do  things  for 
so  charming  a  girl. 

Alfred  made  a  less  direct  demand  upon  his  uncle's  ad- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  137 

miration,  but  he  was  a  very  good  fellow  all  round.  He 
was  big  and  fair  and  muscular,  and  nothing  about  him  but 
his  spectacles  seemed  in  Thorpe's  mind  to  be  related  to 
his  choice  of  art  as  a  profession.  That  so  robust  and 
hearty  a  young  fellow  should  wish  to  put  paint  on  a  can 
vas  with  small  brushes,  was  to  the  uncle  an  unaccountable 
thing.  It  was  almost  as  if  he  had  wanted  to  knit,  or  do 
embroidery.  Of  the  idleness  and  impatience  of  discipline 
which  his  mother  had  seemed  to  allege  against  him, 
Thorpe  failed  to  detect  any  signs.  The  young  man  was 
never  very  late  in  the  morning,  and,  beside  his  tireless 
devotion  to  the  task  of  hunting  up  old  pictures  in  out-of- 
the-way  places,  did  most  of  the  steward's  work  of  the 
party  with  intelligence  and  precision.  He  studied  the 
time-tables,  audited  the  hotel-bills,  looked  after  the  lug 
gage,  got  up  the  street-maps  of  towns  and  the  like,  to 
such  good  purpose  that  they  never  lost  a  train,  or  a  bag, 
or  themselves.  Truly,  an  excellent  young  man.  Thorpe 
noted  with  especial  satisfaction  his  fine,  kindly  big-brother 
attitude  toward  his  sister  Julia— and  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  avoid  the  conviction  that  L,ouisa  was  a  simpleton 
not  to  appreciate  such  children.  They  did  not  often 
allude  to  their  mother  ;  when  they  did,  it  was  in  language 
the  terms  of  which  seemed  more  affectionate  than  the 
tone — and  Thorpe  said  often  to  himself  that  he  did  not 
blame  them.  It  was  not  so  much  that  they  had  out 
grown  their  mother's  point  of  view.  They  had  never  oc 
cupied  it: 

The  journey,  so  far  as  Thorpe  comprehended  its  char 
acter,  had  been  shaped  with  about  equal  regard  for  Julia's 
interest  in  the  romance  of  history,  and  Alfred's  more 
technical  and  practical  interest  in  art.  Each  had  suffi 
cient  sympathy  with  the  tastes  of  the  other,  however,  to 
prevent  any  tendency  to  separation.  They  took  their 


138  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

uncle  one  day  to  see  where  William  the  Silent  was  assas 
sinated,  and  the  next  to  observe  how  Rembrandt's  theory 
of  guild  portrait-painting  differed  from  Van  der  Heist's, 
with  a  common  enthusiasm.  He  scrutinized  with  patient 
loyalty  everything  that  they  indicated  to  him,  and  not 
infrequently  they  appeared  to  like  very  much  the  com 
ments  he  offered.  These  were  chiefly  of  a  sprightly 
nature,  and  when  Julia  laughed  over  them  he  felt  that 
she  was  very  near  to  him  indeed. 

Thus  they  saw  Paris  together — where  Thorpe  did  re 
linquish  some  of  the  multiplied  glories  of  the  L/ouvre  to 
sit  in  front  of  a  cafe  by  the  Opera  House  and  see  the  funny 
people  go  past — and  thence,  by  Bruges  and  Antwerp,  to 
Holland,  where  nobody  could  have  imagined  there  were 
as  many  pictures  as  Thorpe  saw  with  his  own  weary 
eyes.  There  were  wonderful  old  buildings  at  L,ubeck  for 
Julia's  eyes  to  glisten  over,  and  pictures  at  Berlin,  Dres 
den,  and  Dusseldorf  for  Alfred. 

The  assumption  existed  that  the  excursion  into  the 
Thuringenwald  to  see  the  memorials  of  Luther  was  espe 
cially  for  the  uncle's  benefit,  and  he  tried  solicitously  to 
say  or  look  nothing  which  might  invalidate  it.  There 
were  other  places  in  Germany,  from  Mainz  to  Munich, 
which  he  remembered  best  by  their  different  beers.  They 
spent  Christmas  at  Vienna,  where  Julia  had  heard  that 
its  observance  was  peculiarly  insisted  upon,  and  then  they 
saw  the  Tyrol  in  its  heaviest  vesture  of  winter  snows,  and 
beautiful  old  Basle,  where  Alfred  was  crazier  about  Hol 
bein  than  he  had  been  at  Munich  over  Brouwer.  Thorpe 
looked  very  carefully  at  the  paintings  of  both  men,  and 
,  felt  strengthened  in  his  hopes  that  when  Alfred  got  a 
I  little  older  he  would  see  that  this  picture  business  was 
|.  not  the  thing  for  a  young  gentleman  with  prospects  to 
go  into. 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  139 

It  was  at  Basle  that  Thorpe  received  a  letter  from  Lyn 
don  which  directly  altered  the  plans  of  the  party.     He 
had  had  several  other  letters  from  London  which  had  pro 
duced  no  such  effect.     Through  Semple,  he  had  followed 
in  outline  the  unobtrusive  campaign  to  secure  a  Special  • 
Settlement,  and  had  learned  that  the  Stock  Exchange  ; 
Committee,   apparently  without  opposition,  had  granted 
one  for  the  first  week  in  February. 

Kven  this  news,  tremendously  important  as  it  was,  did 
not  prompt  Thorpe  to  interfere  with  the  children's  pro 
jects.  There  was  no  longer  any  point  in  remaining  away 
from  London  ;  there  were,  indeed,  numerous  reasons  for  a 
prompt  return.  But  he  was  loth  to  deprive  the  youngsters 
of  that  descent  into  smiling,  sunlit  Italy  upon  which 
they  had  so  fondly  dwelt  in  fancy,  and  after  all  Semple 
could  do  all  that  was  needful  to  be  done  for  another 
month. 

So  they  went  to  Basle,  and  here  it  was  that  another 
kind  of  letter  came.  It  was  in  a  strange  hand,  at  once 
cramped  and  fluttering,  which  puzzled  the  recipient  a 
good  deal  ;  it  was  a  long  time  before  even  the  signa 
ture  unravelled  itself.  Then  he  forced  himself  to  de-  I 
cipher  it,  sentence  by  sentence,  with  a  fierce  avidity.  It 
was  from  General  Kervick. 

The  next  morning  Thorpe  astonished  his  young  com 
panions  by  suggesting  an  alteration  in  their  route.  In  a 
roundabout  and  tentative  fashion — in  which  more  sus 
picious  observers  must  have  detected  something  shame 
faced — he  mentioned  that  he  had  always  heard  a  great 
deal  about  Montreux  as  a  winter-resort.  The  fact  that 
he  called  it  Montroox  raised  in  Julia's  mind  a  fleeting 
wonder  from  whom  it  could  be  that  he  had  heard  so  much 
about  it,  but  it  occurred  to  neither  her  nor  her  brother  to 
question  his  entire  good  faith.  Their  uncle  had  displayed, 


I4O  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

hitherto,  a  most  comforting  freedom  from  discrimination 
among  European  towns  ;  he  had,  indeed,  assured  them 
many  times  that  they  were  all  one  to  him.  That  he 
should  suddenly  turn  up  now  with  a  favourite  winter-re 
sort  of  his  own  selection  surprised  them  considerably,  but, 
upon  reflection,  it  also  pleased  them.  He  had  humoured 
all  their  wishes  with  such  unfailing  and  bountiful  kindness, 
that  it  was  a  delight  to  learn  that  there  was  something  he 
wanted  to  do.  They  could  not  finish  their  breakfast  till 
the  guide-book  had  been  brought  to  the  table. 

"  Oh  !  How  splendid  !  "  Julia  had  cried  then.  "  The 
Castle  of  Chillon  is  there  !  " 

"  Why  of  course  !  "  said  Thorpe,  complacently. 

They  laughed  gayly  at  him  for  pretending  that  he  had 
known  this,  and  he  as  good-humouredly  accepted  their 
banter.  He  drew  a  serious  long  breath  of  relief,  how 
ever,  when  their  backs  were  turned.  It  had  gone  off 
much  better  than  he  had  feared. 

Now,  on  this  Sunday  afternoon,  as  the  train  made  its 
sure-footed  way  across  the  mountains,  the  thought  that 
he  was  actually  to  alight  at  Montreux  at  once  fascinated 
and  depressed  him.  He  was  annoyed  with  himself  for 
suffering  it  to  get  such  a  hold  upon  his  mind.  What  was 
there  in  it,  anyway  ?  There  was  a  big  hotel  there,  and  he 
and  his  youngsters  were  to  stop  at  it,  and  if  he  acci 
dentally  encountered  a  certain  lady  who  was  also  stopping 
there — and  of  course  the  meeting  would  bear  upon  its  face 
the  stamp  of  pure  chance — what  of  it  ? 

And  if  he  did  meet  her,  thus  fortuitously — what  would 
happen  then  ?  No  doubt  a  lady  of  her  social  position  met 
abroad  great  numbers  of  people  that  she  had  met  at  home. 
It  would  not  in  any  way  surprise  her — this  chance  en 
counter  of  which  he  thought  so  much.  .  Were  there 
sufficient  grounds  for  imagining  that  it  would  even  inter- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  I4.I 

est  her  ?  He  forced  his  mind  up  to  this  question,  as  it 
were,  many  times,  and  invariably  it  shied  and  evaded 
the  leap, 

There  had  been  times,  at  Hadlow  House,  when  Lady 
Cressage  had  seemed  supremely  indifferent  to  the  fact  of  > 
his  existence,  and  there  had  been  other  times  when  it  had ': 
appeared  manifest  that  he  pleased  her — or  better,  per 
haps,  that  she  was  willing  to  take  note  of  how  much  she 
pleased  him.  It  must  have  been  apparent  to  her — this 
fact  that  she  produced  such  an  impression  upon  him. 
He  reasoned  this  out  satisfactorily  to  himself.  These 
beautiful  women,  trained  from  childhood  for  the  conquest 
of  a  rich  husband,  must  have  cultivated  an  extraordinary 
delicacy  of  consciousness,  in  such  matters.  They  must 
have  developed  for  themselves  what  might  be  called  a 
sixth  sense — a  power  of  feeling  in  the  air  what  the  men 
about  were  thinking  of  them.  More  than  once  he  had 
caught  a  glimmer  of  what  he  felt  to  be  the  operation  of 
this  sense,  in  the  company  of  Lady  Cressage.  He  could 
not  say  that  it  had  been  discernible  in  her  glance,  or  her 
voice,  or  her  manner,  precisely,  but  he  was  sure  that  he 
had  seen  it,  somehow. 

But  even  assuming  all  this — admitting  that  in  October, 
on  a  wet  Sunday,  in  the  tedium  of  a  small  country-house 
party,  she  had  shown  some  momentary  satisfaction  in  the 
idea  that  he  was  profoundly  impressed  by  her — did  it  at  all 
follow  that  in  February,  amid  the  distractions  of  a  fash 
ionable  winter-resort,  and  probably  surrounded  by  hosts 
of  friends,  she  would  pay  any  attention  to  him  whatever  ? 
The  abject  fear  that  she  might  not  even  remember  him — 
might  not  know  him  from  Adam  when  he  stood  before  her 
— skulked  about  in  the  labyrinths  of  his  mind,  but  he 
drove  it  back  whenever  it  showed  itsell.  That  would  be 
too  ignominious. 


142  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

The  young  people  at  the  other  side  of  the  compartment, 
forever  wiping  the  window  with  the  napkin,  and  straining 
their  eyes  to  see  the  invisible,  diverted  his  unsettled  at 
tention.  A  new  perception  of  how  much  he  liked  them 
and  enjoyed  having  them  with  him,  took  hold  of  his 
thoughts.  It  had  not  occurred  to  him  before,  with  any 
definiteness,  that  he  would  be  insupportably  lonely  when 
the  time  came  to  part  with  them. 

Now,  when  he  dwelt  upon  it,  it  made  him  feel  sad  and 
old. 

He  said  to  himself  at  once,  with  decision,  that  there 
need  be  no  parting  at  all.  He  would  take  a  house  with 
out  delay,  and  they  should  live  with  him.  He  could  not 
doubt  that  this  would  be  agreeable  to  them;  it  would  solve 
every  problem  for  him. 

His  fancy  sketched  out  the  natural  and  legitimate  ex 
tensions  of  this  project.  There  would  be,  first  of  all,  a 
house  in  town— a  furnished  house  of  a  modest  sort,  having 
no  pretension  save  to  provide  a  cheerful  temporary  shelter 
for  three  people  who  liked  one  another.  Here  the  new 
household  would  take  shape,  and  get  its  right  note  of 
character.  Apparently  Louisa  would  not  be  urged  to 
form  part  of  this  household.  He  said  to  himself  with 
frankness  that  he  did  n't  want  her,  and  there  had  been 
nothing  to  indicate  that  her  children  would  pine  for  her. 
She  showed  good  sense  when  she  said  that  her  place  was 
in  the  shop,  and  in  her  ancestral  home  over  the  shop.  No 
doubt  there  would  be  a  certain  awkwardness,  visible  to 
others  if  not  to  themselves,  about  her  living  in  one  part 
of  London  and  her  children  in  another.  But  here  also 
her  good  sense  would  come  on  ; — and,  besides,  this  fur 
nished  house  in  town  would  be  a  mere  brief  overture  to 
the  real  thing— the  noble  country  mansion  he  was  going 
to  have,  with  gardens  and  horses  and  hounds  and  arti- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  143 

ficial  lakes  and  deer  parks  and  everything.  Quite  within 
the  year  he  would  be  able  to  realize  this  consummation  of 
his  dreams. 

How  these  nice  young  people  would  revel  in  such  a 
place — and  how  they  would  worship  him  for  having  given 
it  to  them  for  a  home  !  His  heart  warmed  within  him  as 
he  thought  of  this.  He  smiled  affectionately  at  the  pic 
ture  Julia  made,  polishing  the  glass  with  vehement  circu 
lar  movements  of  her  slight  arm,  and  then  grimacing  in 
comic  vexation  at  the  deadly  absence  of  landscape  out 
side.  Was  there  ever  a  sweeter  or  more  lovable  girl  in 
this  world  ?  Would  there  have  to  be  some  older  woman 
to  manage  the  house,  at  the  beginning  ?  he  wondered. 
He  should  like  it  immensely  if  that  could  be  avoided. 
Julia  looked  fragile  and  inexperienced — but  she  would  be 
twenty-one  next  month.  Surely  that  was  a  mature 
enough  age  for  the  slight  responsibility  of  presiding  over 
servants  who  should  be  the  best  that  money  could  buy. 
Many  girls  were  married,  and  given  households  of  their 
own  to  manage,  when  they  were  even  younger. 

This  reflection  raised  an  obstacle  against  the  smooth- 
flowing  current  of  his  thoughts.  Supposing  that  Julia  got 
the  notion  of  marrying — how  miserable  that  would  make 
everything.  Very  likely  she  would  never  do  any  such 
thing  ;  he  had  observed  in  her  no  shadow  of  a  sign  that  a 
thought  of  matrimony  had  ever  crossed  her  brain.  Yet 
that  was  a  subject  upon  which,  of  course,  she  could  not  be 
asked  to  give  pledges,  even  to  herseh. 

Thorpe  tried  to  take  a  liberal  view  of  this  matter.  He 
argued  to  himself  that  there  would  be  no  objection  at  all 
to  incorporating  Julia's  husband  into  the  household,  as 
suming  that  she  went  to  the  length  of  taking  one,  and 
that  he  was  a  good  fellow.  On  this  latter  point,  it  was 
only  the  barest  justice  to  Julia's  tastes  and  judgment  to 


144  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

take  it  for  granted  that  he  would  be  a  good  fellow.  Yet 
the  uncle  felt  uneasily  that  this  would  alter  things  for  the 
worse.  The  family  party,  with  that  hypothetical  young 
man  in  it,  could  never  be  quite  so  innocently  and  com 
pletely  happy  as — for  instance — the  family  party  in  this 
compartment  had  been  during  these  wonderful  three 
months. 

Mechanically  he  rubbed  the  window  beside  him,  and 
turned  to  look  out  with  a  certain  fixedness — as  if  he 
might  chance  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  bridegroom  with 
whom  Julia  would  have  it  in  her  power  to  disturb  the 
serenity  of  their  prospective  home.  A  steep  white  cliff, 
receding  sullenly  against  the  dim  grey  skyline  ;  a  farm 
house  grotesquely  low  for  its  size,  crouching  under  big 
shelving  galleries  heaped  with  snow  ;  an  opening  in 
front,  to  the  right,  where  vaguely  there  seemed  to  be  a 
valley  into  which  they  would  descend — he  saw  these 
things.  They  remained  in  his  mind  afterward  as  a  part 
of  something  else  that  he  saw,  with  his  mental  vision,  at 
the  same  moment — a  strikingly  real  and  vivid  present 
ment  of  Lady  Cressage,  attired  as  he  had  seen  her  in  the 
saddle,  her  light  hair  blown  about  a  little  under  her  hat, 
a  spot  of  colour  in  the  exquisite  cheek,  the  cold,  imper 
sonal  dignity  of  a  queen  in  the  beautiful  profile. 

The  picture  was  so  actual  for  the  instant  that  he  ut 
tered  an  involuntary  exclamation — and  then  looked 
hastily  round  to  see  whether  his  companions  had  heard  it. 
Seemingly  they  had  not  ;  he  lolled  again  upon  the  com 
fortless  cushion,  and  strove  to  conjure  up  once  more  the 
apparition.  Nothing  satisfactory  came  of  the  effort. 
Upon  consideration,  he  grew  uncertain  as  to  whether  he 
had  seen  anything  at  all.  At  the  most  it  was  a  kind  of 
half-dream  which  had  visited  him.  He  yawned  at  the 
thought,  and  lighted  a  fresh  cigar.  All  at  once,  his  mind 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  145 

had  become  too  indolent  to  do  any  more  thinking.  A 
shapeless  impression  that  there  would  be  a  good  many 
things  to  think  over  later  on  flitted  into  his  brain  and  out 
again. 

"  Well,  how  are  the  mountains  using  you,  now  ?  "  he 
called  out  to  his  niece. 

11  Oh,  I  could  shake  them  !  "  she  declared.  "  listen 
to  this  :  '  A  view  of  singular  beauty,  embracing  the 
greater  part  of  the  Lake  of  Geneva,  and  the  surrounding 
mountains,  is  suddenly  disclosed.'  That  's  where  we  are 
now — or  were  a  minute  ago.  You  can  see  that  there  is 
some  sort  of  valley  in  front  of  us — but  that  is  all.  If  I 
could  only  see  one  mountain  with  snow  on  it " 

"Why,  it  's  all  mountains  and  all  snow,  when  you 
come  to  that,"  Thorpe  insisted,  with  jocose  perversity. 
"  You  're  on  mountains  yourself,  all  the  time." 

' '  You  know  what  I  mean, ' '  she  retorted.  ' '  I  want  to 
see  something  like  the  coloured  pictures  in  the  hotels." 

"  Oh,  probably  it  will  be  bright  sunlight  tomorrow," 
he  said,  for  perhaps  the  twentieth  time  that  day. 

"  There— that  looks  like  water  !  "  said  Alfred.  "  See  ? 
— just  beyond  the  village.  Yes,  it  is  water.  There  's 
your  Lake  of  Geneva,  at  all  events." 

11  But  it  is  n't  the  right  colour,"  protested  Julia,  peer 
ing  through  the  glass.  "  It  's  precisely  like  everything 
else  :  it  's  of  no  colour  at  all.  And  they  always  paint  it 
such  a  lovely  blue  !  Really,  uncle,  the  Swiss  Govern 
ment  ought  to  return  you  your  money. ' ' 

"  You  wait  till  you  see  it  tomorrow — or  next  day," 
said  the  uncle,  vaguely.  He  closed  his  eyes,  and  wel 
comed  a  drowsy  mood.  As  he  went  off  to  sleep,  the  jolt 
ing  racket  of  the  train  mellowed  itself  into  a  murmur  of 
"  tomorrow  or  next  day,  tomorrow  or  next  day,"  in  his 
ears. 

IO 


CHAPTER  XI 

FROM  their  windows,  high  up  and  at  the  front  of  the 
big  hotel,  Julia  looked  down  upon  the  Lake  of 
Geneva.  She  was  in  such  haste  to  behold  it  that  she  had 
not  so  much  as  unbuttoned  her  gloves  ;  she  held  her  muff 
still  in  her  hand.  After  one  brief  glance,  she  groaned 
aloud  with  vexation. 

Beyond  the  roadway,  and  the  deserted  miniature  pier 
of  Territet,  both  dishevelled  under  melting  and  mud- 
stained  snow,  there  lay  a  patch  of  water — motionless,  in 
conspicuous,  of  a  faded  drab  colour — which  at  some  small 
distance  out  vaguely  ceased  to  look  like  water  and,  yet  a 
little  further  out,  became  part  and  parcel  of  the  dull  grey 
mist.  Save  for  the  forlorn  masts  of  a  couple  of  fishing 
boats,  beached  under  the  shelter  of  the  pier,  there  was  no 
proof  in  sight  that  this  was  a  lake  at  all.  It  was  as  un 
inspiring  to  the  eye  as  a  pool  of  drippings  from  umbrellas 
in  a  porch. 

While  her  uncle  and  brother  occupied  themselves  with 
the  luggage  being  brought  up  by  the  porters,  she  opened 
a  window  and  stepped  out  upon  the  tiny  balcony.  A 
flaring  sign  on  the  inner  framework  of  this  balcony  be 
sought  her  in  Swiss-French,  in  the  interests  of  order,  not 
to  feed  the  birds.  The  injunction  seemed  meaningless  to 
her  until  she  perceived,  over  by  the  water,  several  gulls 
lazily  wheeling  about.  They  were  almost  as  grey  as  the ' 
fog  they  circled  in.  Suddenly  they  seemed  to  perceive  her 
in  turn,  and,  swerving  sharply,  came  floating  toward  the 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  147 

hotel,  with  harsh,  almost  menacing  cries.  She  hurried 
in,  and  shut  the  window  with  decision.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  the  smile  with  which,  as  she  turned,  she  was  able  to 
meet  her  uncle's  look,  was  a  product  of  true  heroism. 

Apparently  this  smile  did  not  altogether  delude  him. 
"  Oh,  now,  you  must  n't  get  down  on  your  luck,"  he 
adjured  her.  "  We  're  going  to  be  awfully  cozy  here. 
Have  you  seen  your  room  ?  It  's  just  there,  in  a  little 
alley  to  the  right  of  the  door.  They  say  it  has  an  even 
finer  view  than  these  windows.  Oh,  you  need  n't  laugh 
— this  is  the  best  view  in  the  world,  I  'm  told  by  those 
who  know.  And  as  a  winter- resort,  why " 

"  I  say,  look  here  !  "  The  interruption  came  from 
Alfred,  who,  having  gone  out  on  one  of  the  balconies, 
put  in  his  head  now  to  summon  them.  "  Come  here  ! 
Here  's  some  fun." 

He  pointed  out  to  Thorpe  the  meaning  of  the  inscrip 
tion  on  the  sign,  and  then  pulled  him  forward  to  observe 
its  practical  defiance.  A  score  of  big  gulls  were  flapping 
and  dodging  in  excited  confusion  close  before  them,  filling 
their  ears  with  a  painful  clamour.  Every  now  and  again, 
one  of  the  birds,  recovering  its  senses  in  the  hurly-burly, 
would  make  a  curving  swoop  downward  past  the  rows  ot 
windows  below,  and  triumphantly  catch  in  its  beak  some 
thing  that  had  been  thrown  into  the  air. 

Thorpe,  leaning  over  his  railing,  saw  that  a  lady  on  a 
balcony  one  floor  below,  and  some  yards  to  the  left,  was 
feeding  the  birds.  She  laughed  aloud  as  she  did  so,  and 
said  something  over  her  shoulder  to  a  companion  who  was 
not  visible. 

"  Well,  that  's  pretty  cool,"  he  remarked  to  his  niece, 
who  had  come  to  stand  beside  him.  "  She  's  got  the 
same  sign  down  there  that  we  've  got.  I  can  see  it  from 
here.  Or  perhaps  she  can't  read  French." 


148  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  Or  perhaps  she  is  n't  frightened  of  the  hotel  people,'* 
suggested  the  girl.  She  added,  after  a  little,  "  I  think 
I  '11  feed  them  n^self  in  the  morning.  I  certainly  shall 
if  the  sun  comes  out — as  a  sort  of  Thanksgiving  festival, 
you  know. ' ' 

Her  uncle  seemed  not  to  hear  her.  He  had  been  struck 
by  the  exceptional  grace  of  the  gestures  with  which  the 
pieces  of  bread  were  flung  forth.  The  hands  and  wrists 
of  this  lady  were  very  white  and  shapely.  The  move 
ments  which  she  made  with  them,  all  unaware  of  observa 
tion  as  she  was,  and  viewed  as  he  viewed  them  from 
above,  were  singularly  beautiful  in  their  unconstraint. 
It  was  in  its  way  like  watching  some  remarkably  fine 
dancing,  he  thought.  He  could  not  see  much  of  her  face, 
from  his  perch,  but  she  was  tall  and  fashionably  clad. 
There  was  a  loose  covering  of  black  lace  thrown  over  her 
head,  but  once,  as  she  turned,  he  could  see  that  her  hair 
was  red.  Even  in  this  fleeting  glimpse,  the  unusual  tint 
attracted  his  attention  :  there  was  a  brilliancy  as  of  fire  in 
it.  Somehow  it  seemed  to  make  a  claim  upon  his  mem 
ory.  He  continued  to  stare  down  at  the  stranger  with  an 
indefinable  sense  that  he  knew  something  about  her. 

Suddenly  another  figure  appeared  upon  the  balcony — 
and  in  a  flash  he  comprehended  everything.  These 
idiotic,  fighting  gluttons  of  gulls  had  actually  pointed 
out  to  him  the  object  of  his  search.  It  was  Lady  Cres- 
sage  who  stood  in  the  doorway,  there  just  below  him — and 
her  companion,  the  red-haired  lady  who  laughed  hotel- 
rules  to  scorn,  was  the  American  heiress  who  had  crossed 
the  ocean  in  his  ship,  and  whom  he  had  met  later  on  at 
Hadlow.  What  was  her  name — Martin  ?  No — Madden. 
He  confronted  the  swift  impression  that  there  was  some 
thing  jwid  about  these  two  women  being  together.  At 
Hadlow  he  had  imagined  that  they  did  not  like  each 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  149 

other.  Then  he  reflected  as  swiftly  that  women  probably 
had  their  own  rules  about  such  matters.  He  seemed  to 
have  heard,  or  read,  perhaps,  that  females  liked  and  dis 
liked  each  other  with  the  most  capricious  alternations  and 
on  the  least  tangible  of  grounds.  At  all  events,  here  they 
were  together  now.  That  was  quite  enough. 

The  two  ladies  had  gone  in,  and  closed  their  window. 
The  sophisticated  birds,  with  a  few  ungrateful  croaks  of 
remonstrance,  had  drifted  away  again  to  the  water.  His 
niece  had  disappeared  from  his  elbow.  Still  Thorpe  re 
mained  with  his  arms  folded  on  the  railing,  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  vacant  balcony,  below  to  the  left. 

When  at  last  he  went  inside,  the  young  people  were 
waiting  for  him  with  the  project  of  a  stroll  before  dinner. 
The  light  was  failing,  but  there  was  plenty  of  time. 
They  had  ascertained  the  direction  in  which  Chillon  lay  ; 
a  servant  had  assured  them  that  it  was  only  a  few  minutes' 
walk,  and  Alfred  was  almost  certain  that  he  had  seen  it 
from  the  window. 

Thorpe  assented  with  a  certain  listlessness,  which  they 
had  never  noted  in  his  manner  before,  but  when  Julia 
begged  him  not  to  stir  if  he  were  in  the  slightest  degree 
tired,  he  replied  honestly  enough  that  he  would  do  any 
thing  rather  than  be  left  alone.  Then,  of  course,  they 
said,  there  should  be  no  walk,  but  to  this  he  would 
not  listen.  The  party  trooped  downstairs,  accordingly, 
and  out  into  the  street.  The  walking  was  vile,  but, 
as  Julia  had  long  ago  said,  if  they  were  to  be  deterred 
by  slush  they  would  never  get  anywhere  or  see  any 
thing. 

It  proved  to  be  too  late  and  too  dark  to  either  enter  the 
castle  or  get  much  of  an  idea  of  its  exterior.  Returning, 
they  paused  again  to  look  into  the  lighted  window  of  the 
nice  little  book-shop.  The  numerous  photographs  of  what 


150  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

they  were  entitled  to  behold  from  the  windows  of  their 
hotel  seemed  more  convincing  than  photographs  usually 
were.  As  the  young  people  inspected  them,  they  became 
reassured.  It  was  not  credible  that  such  a  noble  vista 
would  forever  deny  itself  to  such  earnest  pilgrims.  When 
their  uncle  introduced  this  time  his  ancient  formula  about 
the  certainty  of  brilliant  sunshine  in  the  morning,  they 
somehow  felt  like  believing  him. 

"  Yes — I  really  think  it  must  change,"  Julia  declared, 
with  her  fascinated  glance  upon  the  photographs. 

Alfred  looked  at  his  watch.  "  We  'd  better  get  along 
to  the  hotel,  had  n't  we  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"  By  the  way  " — Thorpe  began,  with  a  certain  uneasi 
ness  of  manner  — "  speaking  of  dinner,  would  n't  you  like 
to  dine  at  the  big  table  d'htite,  instead  of  up  in  our  sitting- 
room  ?" 

"  If  you  're  tired  of  our  dining  alone — by  all  means," 
answered  Julia,  readily.  There  was  obvious  surprise, 
however,  in  both  her  look  and  tone. 

"  Tired  nothing  !  "  he  assured  her.  "  I  like  it  better 
than  anything  else  in  the  world.  But  what  I  mean  is — I 
was  thinking,  seeing  that  this  is  such  a  great  winter-re 
sort,  and  all  the  swagger  people  of  Kurope  come  here — 
that  probably  you  youngsters  would  enjoy  seeing  the 
crowd." 

Julia's  glance,  full  of  affectionate  appreciation,  showed 
how  wholly  she  divined  his  spirit  of  self-sacrifice.  :'  We 
would  n't  care  in  the  least  for  it,"  she  declared.  "  We 
enjoy  being  a  little  party  by  ourselves  every  whit  as 
much  as  you  do — and  we  both  hate  the  people  you  get  at 
table  d'hdtes — and  besides,  for  that  matter,  if  there  are  any 
real  swells  here,  you  may  be  sure  they  dine  in  their  own 
rooms. ' ' 

'  *  Why,  01  course !  ' '  Thorpe  exclaimed  swiftly,  in  palpa- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  I$I 

ble  self- rebuke.  "  I  don't  know  what  I  could  have  been 
thinking  of.  Of  course  they  would  dine  in  their  rooms." 

Next  morning,  Thorpe  rose  earlier  than  ever — with  the 
impression  of  a  peculiarly  restless  and  uncomfortable  night 
behind  him.  It  was  not  until  he  had  shaved  and  dressed 
that  he  noted  the  altered  character  of  the  air  outside. 
Although  it  was  not  fully  daylight  yet,  he  could  see  the 
outlines  of  the  trees  and  vinerows  on  the  big,  snow-clad 
hill,  which  monopolized  the  prospect  from  his  window,  all 
sharp  and  clear  cut,  as  if  he  were  looking  at  them  through 
an  opera-glass.  He  went  at  once  to  the  sitting-room,  and 
thrust  the  curtains  aside  from  one  of  the  windows. 

A  miracle  had  been  wrought  in  the  night.  The  sky 
overhead  was  serenely  cloudless  ;  the  lake  beneath,  stir 
ring  softly  under  some  faint  passing  breeze,  revealed  its 
full  breadth  with  crystalline  distinctness.  Between  sky  and 
water  there  stretched  across  the  picture  a  broad,  looming, 
dimly-defined  band  of  shadow,  marked  here  and  there  at 
the  top  by  little  slanting  patches  of  an  intensely  glowing 
white.  He  looked  at  this  darkling  middle  distance  for  a 
moment  or  two  without  comprehension.  Then  he  turned 
and  hurriedly  moved  to  the  door  of  Julia's  room  and  beat 
upon  it. 

"  Get  up  !  "  he  called  through  the  panels.  "  Here  's 
your  sunrise — here  's  your  Alpine  view.  Go  to  your 
window  and  see  it  !  " 

A  clear  voice,  not  unmirthful,  replied  :  "  I  've  been 
watching  it  for  half  an  hour,  thanks.  Is  n't  it  glorious  ?  " 

He  was  more  fortunate  at  the  opposite  door,  for  Alfred 
was  still  asleep.  The  young  man,  upon  hearing  the  news, 
however,  made  a  toilet  of  unexampled  brevity,  and  came 
breathlessly  forth.  Thorpe  followed  him  to  the  balcony, 
where  he  stood  collarless  and  uncombed,  with  the  fresh 
morning  breeze  blowing  his  hair  awry,  his  lips  parted, 


152  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

his  eyes  staring  with  what  the  uncle  felt  to  be  a  painful 
fixedness  before  him. 

Thorpe  had  seen  many  mountains  in  many  lands.  They 
did  not  interest  him  very  much.  He  thought,  however, 
that  he  could  see  now  why  people  who  had  no  mountains 
of  their  own  should  get  excited  about  Switzerland.  He 
understood  a  number  of  these  sentimental  things  now,  for 
that  matter,  which  had  been  Greek  to  him  three  months 
before.  Unreceptive  as  his  philistinism  may  have  seemed 
to  these  delightful  youngsters,  it  was  apparent  enough  to 
him  that  they  had  taught  him  a  great  deal.  If  he  could 
not  hope  to  share  their  ever- bubbling  raptures  and  en 
thusiasms,  at  least  he  had  come  to  comprehend  them  after 
a  fashion,  and  even  to  discern  sometimes  what  it  was  that 
stirred  them. 

He  watched  his  nephew  now — having  first  assured  him 
self  by  a  comprehensive  downward  glance  that  no  other 
windows  of  the  hotel-front  were  open.  The  young  man 
seemed  tremendously  moved,  far  too  much  so  to  talk. 
Thorpe  ventured  once  some  remarks  about  the  Mexican 
mountains,  which  were  ever  so  much  bigger,  as  he  re 
membered  them,  but  Alfred  paid  no  heed.  He  continued 
to  gaze  across  the  lake,  watching  in  rapt  silence  one  facet 
after  another  catch  the  light,  and  stand  out  from  the 
murky  gloom,  radiantly  white,  till  at  last  the  whole  hori 
zon  was  a  mass  of  shining  minarets  and  domes,  and  the 
sun  fell  full  on  his  face.  Then,  with  a  long-drawn  sigh, 
he  turned,  re-entered  the  room,  and  threw  himself  into  a 
chair. 

"  It  's  too  good  !  "  he  declared,  with  a  half-groan.  "  I 
did  n't  know  it  would  be  like  that." 

"  Why  nothing  's  too  good  for  us,  man,"  his  uncle  told 
him. 

"  That  is,"  said  the  boy,  simply,  and  Thorpe,  after 


THE    MARKET-PLACfi  153 

staring  for  a  moment,  smiled  and  rang  the  bell  for  break 
fast. 

When  Julia  made  her  appearance,  a  few  minutes  later, 
the  table  was  already  laid,  and  the  waiter  was  coming  in 
with  the  coffee. 

"  I  thought  we  'd  hurry  up  breakfast,"  her  uncle  ex 
plained,  after  she  had  kissed  him  and  thanked  him  for  the 
sunrise  he  had  so  successfully  predicted — "  because  I 
knew  you  'd  both  be  crazy  to  get  out." 

He  had  not  over-estimated  their  eagerness,  which  was 
so  great,  indeed,  that  they  failed  to  note  the  excessive 
tranquility  of  his  own  demeanour.  He  ate  with  such 
unusual  deliberation,  on  this  exciting  morning,  that  they 
found  themselves  at  the  end  of  their  repast  when,  ap 
parently,  he  had  but  made  a  beginning. 

"  Now  you  must  n't  wait  for  me  at  all,"  he  announced 
to  them  then.  "  I  'm  a  little  tired  this  morning — and  I 
think  I  'd  just  like  to  lie  around  and  smoke,  and  perhaps 
read  one  of  your  novels.  But  you  two  must  get  your 
things  on  and  lose  no  time  in  getting  out.  This  is  the 
very  best  time  of  day,  you  know — for  Alpine  scenery. 
I  'd  hate  to  have  you  miss  any  of  it." 

Under  his  kindly  if  somewhat  strenuous  insistence, 
they  went  to  their  rooms  to  prepare  for  an  immediate 
excursion.  He  was  so  anxious  to  have  them  see  all 
there  was  to  be  seen  that,  when  Julia  returned,  properly 
cloaked  and  befurred,  and  stood  waiting  at  the  window, 
he  scolded  a  little. 

"  What  on  earth  is  that  boy  doing?  "  he  exclaimed, 
with  a  latent  snarl  in  his  tone  which  was  novel  to  her  ear. 
"  He  '11  keep  you  here  till  noon  !  " 

"  He  's  shaving,  I  think.  He  won't  be  long,"  she  re 
plied,  with  great  gentleness.  After  a  moment's  pause, 
she  turned  from  the  window  and  came  gayly  forward. 


154  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  Oh,  I  forgot :  I  was  going  to  feed  the  birds.  There  are 
several  of  them  out  there  now."  As  she  spoke,  she  busily 
broke  up  some  of  the  rolls  on  the  table.  Her  face  was 
bright  with  the  pleasure  of  the  thought. 

"  If  you  don't  much  mind,  Julia/'  her  uncle  began,  with 
almost  pleading  intonations,  "  I  rather  think  I  would  n't 
feed  those  birds.  The  rule  is  there  before  our  eyes,  you 
know — and  it  's  always  been  my  idea  that  if  you  're  at  a 
hotel  it  's  the  correct  thing  to  abide  by  its  rules.  It  's 
just  an  idea  of  mine — and  I  daresay,  if  you  think  about 
it,  you  '11  feel  the  same  way." 

The  girl  freed  the  last  remaining  bread-crumb  from 
her  gloves.  '  Why,  of  course,  uncle,"  she  said,  with 
promptitude. 

Although  there  was  no  hint  of  protest  in  her  tone  or 
manner,  he  felt  impelled  to  soften  still  further  this  soli 
tary  demonstration  of  his  authority.  '  You  see  I  've 
been  all  round  the  world,  my  little  girl,"  he  explained, 
haltingly,  "  and  when  a  man  's  done  that,  and  knocked 
about  everywhere,  he  's  apt  to  get  finicking  and  notional 
about  trifles  every  once  in  a  while. ' ' 

11  You  're  less  so  than  anybody  I  ever  knew,"  she  gen 
erously  interposed. 

"  Oh,  no  I  'm  not.  You  don't  know  me  well  enough 
yet  ;  that  's  what  's  the  matter.  And  you  see,  Julia — 
another  thing — just  because  you  saw  that  lady  throwing 
out  bread,  that  airit  a  very  good  reason  why  you  should 
do  it.  You  don't  know  what  kind  of  a  person  she  may 
be.  Girls  have  got  to  be  so  frightfully  careful  about  all 
that  sort  of  thing." 

Julia  offered  a  constrained  little  laugh  in  comment. 
"  Oh,  you  don't  know  how  careful  I  can  be,"  she  said. 

"  But  you  're  not  annoyed?"  he  entreated  her — and 
for  answer  she  came  behind  him,  and  rested  an  arm  on 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  155 

his  shoulder,  and  patted  it.  He  stroked  her  hand  with 
his  own.  ''  That's  something  like  the  nicest  niece  in 
the  world  !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  fervour. 

When  at  last  she  and  her  brother  had  gone,  he  made 
short  work  of  his  breakfast,  and  drank  his  coffee  at  a  gulp. 
A  restless  activity  suddenly  informed  his  movements.  He 
lit  a  cigar,  and  began  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  bit 
ing  his  lips  in  preoccupation  as  he  went.  After  a  little, 
he  opened  a  window,  and  ventured  cautiously  as  far  out 
on  the  balcony  as  was  necessary  to  obtain  a  view  of  the 
street  below.  Kventually,  he  identified  his  nephew  and 
niece  among  the  pedestrians  beneath  him,  and  he  kept 
them  in  sight  till,  after  more  than  one  tiresome  halt  at  a 
.shop  window,  they  disappeared  round  a  bend  in  the  road,  i 
iThen  he  turned  and  came  back  into  the  room  with  the  I 
ibuoyant  air  of  a  man  whose  affairs  are  prospering. 

He  smiled  genially  to  himself  as  he  gathered  from  the 
table  in  one  capacious  hand  all  the  pieces  of  bread  his  be 
loved  niece  had  broken  up,  and  advanced  again  to  the 
open  window.  Waiting  here  till  one  of  the  dingy  gulls 
moving  aimlessly  about  was  headed  toward  him,  he  tossed 
out  a  fragment.  The  bird  dashed  at  it  with  a  scream,  and 
on  the  instant  the  whole  squawking  flock  were  on  wing. 
He  suffered  the  hubbub  to  proceed  unappeased  for  a  little, 
while  he  kept  a  watchful  though  furtive  eye  on  that  bal 
cony  to  the  left,  below.  Unhappily  he  could  not  get  out 
far  enough  to  see  whether  the  inner  curtains  of  its  window 
were  drawn.  He  threw  another  bit  of  bread,  and  then 
looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  a  few  minutes  past  nine. 
Surely  people  travelling  to  see  scenery  would  be  up  by 
this  hour. 

The  strategy  of  issuing  just  enough  bread  to  keep  the 
feathered  concourse  in  motion  commended  itself  to  his 
mind.  As  a  precautionary  measure,  he  took  all  the  rolls 


156  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

remaining  on  the  table,  and  put  them  in  the  drawer  of  a 
desk  by  the  window.  It  even  occurred  to  him  to  ring  for 
more  bread,  but  upon  consideration  that  seemed  too  dar 
ing.  The  waiter  would  be  sufficiently  surprised  at  the 
party's  appetites  as  it  was. 

Half  an  hour  later,  his  plan  ol  campaign  suddenly 
yielded  a  victory.  Lady  Cressage  appeared  on  her  bal 
cony,  clad  in  some  charming  sort  of  morning  gown,  and 
bareheaded.  She  had  nothing  in  her  hands,  and  seemed 
indifferent  to  the  birds,  but  when  Thorpe  flung  forth  a 
handful  of  fragments  into  the  centre  of  their  whirling 
flock,  she  looked  up  at  him.  It  was  the  anxious  instant, 
and  he  ventured  upon  what  he  hoped  was  a  decorous  com 
promise  between  a  bow  and  a  look  of  recognition. 

She  was  in  no  haste  to  answer  either.  He  could  see 
rather  than  hear  that  she  said  something  to  her  invisible 
companion  within,  the  while  she  glanced  serenely  in  the 
general  direction  of  his  balcony.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
the  answer  to  her  remark,  whatever  it  was,  must  have  ex 
erted  a  direct  influence  upon  his  destiny,  for  L,ady  Cres 
sage  all  at  once  focussed  her  vague  regard  upon  him,  and 
nodded  with  a  reasonably  gracious  smile. 

"  It 's  wonderful  luck  to  find  you  here,"  he  called  down 
to  her.  Having  played  their  part,  he  wished  now  that 
the  birds  were  at  Jericho.  Their  obstreperous  racket 
made  conversation  very  difficult.  Apparently  she  made 
him  an  answer,  but  he  could  catch  nothing  of  it. 

"  I  'm  here  with  my  niece  and  nephew,"  he  shouted 
dowu.  "  I  don't  hear  what  you  say.  May  I  come  down 
and  pay  my  respects — later  on  ?  What  is  your  number, 
and  when  may  I  come  ?  " 

These  questions,  as  he  flashed  them  in  review  through 
his  mind,  seemed  to  be  all  right  from  the  most  exacting 
social  point  of  view.  Doubtless  it  was  equally  all  right 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  157 

that,  before  replying,  she  should  consult  her  companion, 
as  she  did  at  some  length.  Then  she  replied — and  he  had 
no  difficulty  now  in  hearing  her  above  the  birds — that 
it  would  be  very  nice  of  him  to  come,  say,  in  an  hour's 
time.  She  told  him  the  number — and  then  almost  abruptly 
went  in. 

Thorpe,  during  this  hour  that  ensued,  smoked  with 
volcanic  energy.  He  tried  to  interest  himself  in  one  after 
another  of  half  a  dozen  Tauchnitz  novels  his  niece  carried 
about,  with  a  preposterous  absence  of  success.  He  strove 
to  arrange  in  some  kind  of  sequence  the  things  that  he 
should  say,  when  this  momentous  interview  should  begin, 
but  he  could  think  of  nothing  which  did  not  sound  silly. 
It  would  be  all  right,  he  argued  to  himself  in  the  face  of 
this  present  mental  barrenness  ;  he  always  talked  well 
enough  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  when  the  time  came — 
and  still  was  not  reassured. 

He  wondered  if  both  ladies  would  be  there  to  receive 
him,  and  decided  that  they  would  probably  regard  that  as 
indispensable  to  the  proprieties.  In  that  case,  their  con 
versation  would  necessarily  be  of  the  most  casual  and  gen 
eral  character.  He  would  tell  them  a  good  deal  about  his 
niece,  he  foresaw.  A  man  travelling  about  with  a  niece — 
and  such  a  delightfully  lady-like  and  engaging  little  niece 
— would  take  on  some  added  interest  and  dignity,  he  per 
ceived,  in  the  eyes  of  ladies  travelling  alone.  He  essayed 
to  estimate  just  how  much  they  would  probably  like  Julia. 
Of  course  he  would  say  nothing  about  her  mother  and  the 
book-shop  ;  a  vague  allusion  to  a  widowed  sister  would  be 
ample  on  that  head.  But  there  could  be  confident  refer 
ences  to  Cheltenham  ;  he  knew  from  what  Julia  had  said 
that  it  suggested  the  most  satisfactory  social  guarantees, 
if  taken  strictly  by  itself.  And  then  so  much  would  de 
pend  upon  Julia  herself !  If  she  succeeded  in  striking  up 


1 58  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

a  friendship  with  them — ah,  then  everything  would  be  all 
right.  Perhaps  they  would  take  a  fancy  to  Alfred  too  ! 
He  was  a  boy,  of  course,  but  conceivably  the  fact  that 
he  wanted  to  paint,  and  knew  about  pictures,  would  ap 
peal  to  them.  He  seemed  to  have  heard  somewhere  that 
artists  were  the  very  devil  among  women. 

At  last  the  weary  time  of  waiting  had  worn  itself  out, 
somehow,  and,  after  a  final  polishing  before  his  glass,  he 
went  down,  and  found  his  right  corridor,  and  knocked  at 
the  door.  A  pleasant  voice  bade  him  enter,  and,  hat  and 
gloves  in  hand,  he  went  in. 

As  he  had  imagined,  both  ladies  were  present.  He  had 
not  been  prepared,  however,  for  the  fact  that  it  was  the 
American  who  played  the  part  of  hostess.  It  was  she 
who  received  him,  and  invited  him  to  sit  down,  and  gen 
erally  made  him  free  of  the  apartment.  When  he  shook 
hands  with  Lady  Cressage,  there  was  somehow  an  effect 
of  the  incidental  in  the  ceremony,  as  if  she  were  also  a 
guest. 

Nothing  could  have  been  simpler  or  more  pleasing  than 
the  little  visit  turned  out  to  be.  Miss  Madden  had  sud 
denly  grown  tired  of  the  snowless  and  dripping  English 
winter,  and  had  as  promptly  decided  to  come  to  Switzer 
land,  where  the  drifts  ought  to  be  high  enough,  and  the 
frosts  searching  enough,  in  all  conscience.  They  had  se 
lected  Territet,  because  it  was  familiar  to  her,  and  because 
it  was  on  the  way  to  Martigny  and  Brieg,  and  she  had 
had  a  notion  of  crossing  either  the  Simplon  or  the  St. 
Bernard  in  winter.  As  she  found  now,  the  St.  Bernard 
was  quite  impracticable,  but  admittedly  a  post  road  was 
kept  open  over  the  Simplon.  It  was  said  now  that  she 
would  not  be  allowed  to  proceed  by  this,  but  it  often  hap 
pened  that  she  did  the  things  that  she  was  not  allowed  to 
do.  The  hotel-people  at  both  Brieg  and  Berisal  had  writ- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  159 

ten  refusing  to  let  their  horses  attempt  the  Simplon  jour 
ney,  and  they  were  of  course  quite  within  their  rights, 
but  there  were  other  horses  in  Switzerland.  One  surely 
could  buy  horses — and  so  on. 

Thorpe  also  had  his  turn  at  autobiography.  He  told 
rather  whimsically  of  his  three  months'  experiences  at  the 
tail  of  the  j  uvenile  whirligigs,  and  his  auditors  listened  to 
them  with  mild  smiles.  He  ventured  upon  numerous 
glowing  parentheses  about  Julia,  and  they  at  least  did  not 
say  that  they  did  not  want  to  know  her.  They  heard 
with  politeness,  too,  what  he  could  contrive  to  drag  in 
about  his  artist-nephew,  and  said  it  must  be  very  pleasant 
for  him  to  have  such  nice  company.  At  least  Miss  Mad 
den  said  this  :  her  companion,  as  he  thought  it  over  after 
ward,  seemed  hardly  to  have  said  anything  at  all.  She 
answered  the  few  remarks  which  he  found  it  possible  to 
direct  to  her,  but  the  responses  took  no  hold  upon  his 
memory.  He  fancied  that  she  was  bored,  or  unhappy, 
or  both. 

Finally,  in  the  midst  of  commonplaces  which,  to  his  ap 
prehension,  were  verging  upon  flatness,  a  bold  inspiration 
disclosed  itself — as  splendid  as  the  Dent  du  Midi  revealing 
its  glaciers  above  the  mounting  sunrise — in  his  brain. 

' '  We  should  all  be  charmed  if  you  would  come  up  and 
dine  with  us  tonight,"  he  said,  under  the  abrupt  impul 
sion  of  this  idea.  "It  's  been  such  an  age  since  we 
wanderers  have  had  the  privilege  of  company  at  our 
table!" 

The  felicity  of  these  phrases  from  his  lips  attracted  his 
admiring  attention,  even  while  he  waited  in  suspense  for 
an  answer  to  them. 

The  ladies  exchanged  a  look.  '  Yes,"  said  Miss 
Madden,  after  the  slightest  of  pauses,  "  we  shall  be  very 
happy. ' ' 


l6o  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Shortly  thereafter  Thorpe  took  his  leave,  and  went 
downstairs  and  out.  He  wandered  about  till  luncheon 
time,  observing  the  mountains  across  the  lake  from  vari 
ous  standpoints,  and,  as  it  were,  with  new  eyes.  He  was 
interested  in  them  in  a  curious  new  fashion  ;  they  seemed 
to  say  things  to  him.  His  lip  curled  once  at  the  conceit 
that  he  was  one  of  the  Alps  himself. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IT  did  not  happen  until  three  days  later  that  Thorpe's 
opportunity  to  speak  alone  with  Lady  Cressage  came. 

In  this  brief  period,  the  two  parties  seemed  to  have  be 
come  fused  in  a  remarkable  intimacy.  This  was  clearly 
due  to  the  presence  of  the  young  people,  and  Thorpe  con 
gratulated  himself  many  times  each  day  upon  the  striking 
prescience  he  had  shown  in  bringing  them. 

Both  the  ladies  unaffectedly  liked  Julia  ;  so  much  so 
that  they  seemed  unwilling  to  make  any  plans  which  did 
not  include  her.  Then  it  was  only  a  matter  of  course  that 
where  she  went  her  brother  should  go — and  a  further  logi 
cal  step  quite  naturally  brought  in  their  willing  uncle.  If 
he  had  planned  everything,  and  now  was  ordering  every 
thing,  it  could  not  have  gone  more  to  his  liking. 

Certain  side  speculations  lent  a  savour  to  the  satisfaction 
with  which  he  viewed  this  state  of  affairs.  He  found  many 
little  signs  to  confirm  the  suspicion  that  the  two  ladies  had 
been  the  readier  to  make  much  of  Julia  because  they  were 
not  over-keen  about  each  other's  society.  The  bright, 
sweet- natured  girl  had  come  as  a  welcome  diversion  to  a 
couple  who  in  seclusion  did  battle  with  tendencies  to  yawn. 
He  was  not  quite  convinced,  for  that  matter,  that  the 
American  lady  always  went  to  that  trouble.  She  seemed 
to  his  observation  a  wilful  sort  of  person,  who  would  not 
be  restrained  by  small  ordinary  considerations  from  doing 
the  things  she  wanted  to  do.  Her  relations  with  her 
companion  afforded  him  food  for  much  thought.  With- 

,6. 


1 62  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

out  any  overt  demonstrations,  she  produced  the  effect  of 
ordering  Lady  Cressage  about.  This,  so  far  as  it  went, 
tended  to  prejudice  him  against  her.  On  the  other  hand, 
however,  she  was  so  good  to  Julia,  in  a  peculiarly  frank 
and  buoyant  way  which  fascinated  the  girl,  that  he  could 
not  but  like  her.  And  she  was  very  good  to  Alfred  too. 

There  was,  indeed,  he  perceived,  a  great  deal  of  individ 
uality  about  the  friendship  which  had  sprung  up  between 
Miss  Madden  and  his  nephew.  She  was  years  his  senior 
— he  settled  it  with  himself  that  the  American  could  not 
be  less  than  seven-and- twenty, — yet  Alfred  stole  covert 
glances  of  admiration  at  her,  and  seemed  to  think  of  no 
thing  but.  opportunities  for  being  in  her  company  as  if — 
as  if — Thorpe  hardly  liked  to  complete  the  comparison  in 
his  own  thoughts.  Alfred,  of  course,  said  it  was  all  on 
,  account  of  her  wonderful  hair  ;  he  rather  went  out  of  his 
j  way  to  dilate  upon  the  enthusiasm  her  "  colour  scheme  " 
— whatever  that  might  mean — excited  in  him  as  an  artist. 
The  uncle  had  moments  of  profound  skepticism  about  this 
— moments  when  he  uneasily  wondered  whether  it  was 
not  going  to  be  his  duty  to  speak  to  the  young  man.  For 
the  most  part,  however,  he  extracted  reassurance  from 
Miss  Madden's  demeanour  toward  the  lad.  She  knew,  it 
seemed,  a  vast  deal  about  pictures  ;  at  least  she  was  able 
to  talk  a  vast  deal  about  them,  and  she  did  it  in  such 
a  calmly  dogmatic  fashion,  laying  down  the  law  always, 
that  she  put  Alfred  in  the  position  of  listening  as  a  pupil 
might  listen  to  a  master.  The  humility  with  which  his 
nephew  accepted  this  position  annoyed  Thorpe  upon  occa 
sion,  but  he  reasoned  that  it  was  a  fault  on  the  right  side. 
Very  likely  it  would  help  to  keep  the  fact  of  the  lady's 
seniority  more  clearly  before  the  youngster's  mind,  and 
that  would  be  so  much  gained. 

And  these  apprehensions,  after  all,  were  scarcely  to  be 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  163 

counted  in  the  balance  against  the  sense  of  achieved  hap 
piness  with  which  these  halcyon  days  kept  Thorpe  filled. 
The  initiatory  dinner  had  gone  off  perfectly.  He  could 
have  wished,  indeed,  that  Julia  had  a  smarter  frock,  and 
more  rings,  when  he  saw  the  imposing  costumes  and 
jewelled  throats  and  hands  of  his  guests — but  she  was  a 
young  girl,  by  comparison,  he  reflected,  and  there  could 
be  no  doubt  that  they  found  her  charming.  As  for  Alfred, 
he  was  notably  fine-looking  in  his  evening-clothes — in 
finitely  more  like  the  son  of  a  nobleman,  the  gratified 
uncle  kept  saying  to  himself,  than  that  big  dullard,  the 
Honourable  Balder.  It  filled  him  with  a  new  pleasure  to 
remember  that  Alfred  had  visiting  cards  presenting  his 
name  as  D'Aubigny,  which  everybody  of  education  knew 
was  what  the  degenerate  Dabney  really  stood  for.  The 
lad  and  his  sister  had  united  upon  this  excellent  change 
long  ago  at  Cheltenham,  and  oddly  enough  they  had  con 
fessed  it  to  their  uncle,  at  the  beginning  of  the  trip,  with 
a  show  of  trepidation,  as  if  they  feared  his  anger.  With 
radiant  gayety  he  had  relieved  their  minds  by  showing 
them  his  card,  with  "  Mr.  Stormont  Thorpe  "  alone  upon 
it.  At  the  dinner  table,  in  the  proudest  moment  of  his  life, 
he  had  made  himself  prouder  still  by  thinking  how  dis 
tinguished  an  appearance  his  and  Alfred's  cards  would 
make  together  in  the  apartment  below  next  day. 

But  next  day,  the  relations  between  the  two  parties  had 
already  become  too  informal  for  cards.  Julia  went  down 
to  see  them  ;  they  came  up  to  see  Julia.  Then  they  all 
went  for  a  long  walk,  with  luncheon  at  Vevey,  and  before 
evening  Alfred  was  talking  confidently  of  painting  Miss 
Madden.  Next  day  they  went  by  train  to  St.  Maurice, 
and,  returning  after  dark,  dined  without  ceremony  to 
gether.  This  third  day — the  weather  still  remaining 
bright — they  had  ascended  by  the  funicular  road  to  Glion, 


164  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

and  walked  on  among  the  swarming  luegers,  up  to  Caux. 
Here,  after  luncheon,  they  had  wandered  about  for  a 
time,  regarding  the  panorama  of  lake  and  mountains. 
Now,  as  the  homeward  descent  began,  chance  led  the  two 
young  people  and  Miss  Madden  on  ahead. 

Thorpe  found  himself  walking  beside  Lady  Cressage. 
He  had  upon  his  arm  her  outer  wrap,  which  she  said  she 
would  put  on  presently.  To  look  at  the  view  he  must 
glance  past  her  face  :  the  profile,  under  the  graceful  fur 
cap,  was  so  enriched  by  glowing  colour  that  it  was,  to  his 
thought,  as  if  she  were  blushing. 

11  How  little  I  thought,  a  few  months  ago,"  he  said, 
"  that  we  should  be  mountaineering  together  !  " 

"  Oh,  no  one  knows  a  day  ahead,"  she  responded, 
vaguely.  "  I  had  probably  less  notion  of  coming  to 
Switzerland  then  than  you  had." 

"  Then  you  don't  come  regularly  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  seen  either  Germany  or  Switzerland 
before.  I  have  scarcely  been  out  of  Kngland  before." 

"  Why  now" — he  paused,  to  think  briefly  upon  his 
words — "  I  took  it  for  granted  you  were  showing  Miss 
Madden  around." 

"  It  's  quite  the  other  way  about,"  she  answered,  with 
a  cold  little  laugh.  "  It  is  she  who  is  showing  me  around. 
It  is  her  tour.  I  am  the  chaperone. ' ' 

Thorpe  dwelt  upon  the  word  in  his  mind.  He  under 
stood  what  it  meant  only  in  a  way,  but  he  was  luminously 
clear  as  to  the  bitterness  of  the  tone  in  which  it  had  been 
uttered. 

"  No — it  did  n't  seem  as  if  it  were  altogether — what  I 
might  call— your  tour,"  he  ventured.  They  had  seen 
much  of  each  other  these  past  few  days,  but  it  was  still 
hard  for  him  to  make  sure  whether  their  freedom  of  inter 
course  had  been  enlarged. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  165 

The  slight  shrug  of  the  shoulders  with  which,  in 
silence,  she  commented  upon  his  remark,  embarrassed 
him.  For  a  moment  he  said  nothing.  He  went  on 
then  with  a  renewed  consciousness  of  risk. 

"  You  must  n't  be  annoyed  with  me,"  he  urged. 
"  I  've  been  travelling  with  that  dear  little  niece  of  mine 
and  her  brother,  so  long,  that  I  've  got  into  a  habit  of 
watching  to  notice  if  the  faces  I  see  round  me  are  happy. 
And  when  they  're  not,  then  I  have  a  kind  of  fatherly 
notion  of  interfering,  and  seeing  what  's  wrong." 

She  smiled  faintly  at  this,  but  when  he  added,  upon 
doubtful  inspiration — "  By  the  way,  speaking  of  fathers, 
I  did  n't  know  at  Hadlow  that  you  were  the  daughter  of 
one  of  my  Directors  " — this  smile  froze  upon  the  instant. 

"  The  Dent  du  Midi  is  more  impressive  from  the  hotel, 
don't  you  think  ?  "  she  remarked,  "  than  it  is  from  here." 

Upon  consideration,  he  resolved  to  go  forward.  "  I 
have  taken  a  great  interest  in  General  Kervick, ' '  he  said, 
almost  defiantly.  "  I  am  seeing  to  it  that  he  has  a  com 
fortable  income — an  income  suitable  to  a  gentleman  of  his 
position — for  the  rest  of  his  life." 

' '  He  will  be  very  glad  of  it, ' '  she  remarked. 

"  But  I  hoped  that  you  would  be  glad  of  it  too,"  he 
told  her,  bluntly.  A  curious  sense  of  reliance  upon  his 
superiority  in  years  had  come  to  him.  If  he  could  make 
his  air  elderly  and  paternal  enough,  it  seemed  likely  that 
she  would  defer  to  it.  "  I  'm  talking  to  you  as  I  would 
to  my  niece,  you  know,"  he  added,  plausibly. 

She  turned  her  head  to  make  a  fleeting  survey  of  his 
face,  as  if  the  point  of  view  took  her  by  surprise.  "  I 
don't  understand,"  she  said.  "You  are  providing  an 
income  for  my  father,  because  you  wish  to  speak  to  me 
like  an  uncle.  Is  that  it  ?  " 

He   laughed,    somewhat    disconsolately.      "  No — that 


1 66  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

is  n't  it,"  he  said,  and  laughed  again.  "  I  could  n't  tell, 
you  know,  that  you  would  n't  want  to  talk  about  your 
father." 

"  Why,  there  's  no  reason  in  the  world  for  not  talking 
of  him,"  she  made  haste  to  declare.  "  And  if  he  's  got 
something  good  in  the  City,  I  'm  sure  I  'm  as  glad  as  any 
one.  He  is  the  sort  that  ought  always  to  have  a  good  deal 
of  money.  I  mean,  it  will  bring  out  his  more  amiable 
qualities.  He  does  not  shine  much  in  adversity — any 
more  than  I  do. " 

Thorpe  felt  keenly  that  there  were  fine  things  to  be  said 
here — but  he  had  confidence  in  nothing  that  came  to  his 
tongue.  "  I  've  been  a  poor  man  all  my  life — till  now," 
was  his  eventual  remark. 

"  Please  don't  tell  me  that  you  have  been  very  happy 
in  your  poverty,"  she  adjured  him,  with  the  dim  nicker 
of  a  returning  smile.  '  Very  likely  there  are  people  who 
are  so  constituted,  but  they  are  not  my  kind.  I  don't 
want  to  hear  them  tell  about  it.  To  me  poverty  is  the 
horror — the  unmentionable  horror  !  " 

"There  never  was  a  day  that  I  did  n't  feel  that!" 
Thorpe  put  fervour  into  his  voice.  ' '  I  was  never  recon 
ciled  to  it  for  a  minute.  I  never  ceased  swearing  to  my 
self  that  I  'd  pull  myself  out  of  it.  And  that  's  what 
makes  me  sort  of  soft-hearted  now  toward  those — toward 
those  who  have  n't  pulled  themselves  out  of  it." 

'  Your  niece  says  you  are  soft-hearted  beyond  ex 
ample,"  remarked  L,ady  Cressage. 

"  Who  could  help  being,  to  such  a  sweet  little  girl  as 
she  is  ?  "  demanded  the  uncle,  fondly. 

"  She  is  very  nice,"  said  the  other.  "  If  one  may  say 
such  a  thing,  I  fancy  these  three  months  with  her  have 
had  an  appreciable  effect  upon  you.  I  'm  sure  I  note  a 
difference. ' ' 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  l6/ 

"  That  's  just  what  I  've  been  saying  to  myself !  "  he 
told  her.  He  was  visibly  delighted  with  this  corrobora- 
tion.  "  I  've  been  alone  practically  all  my  life.  I  had 
no  friends  to  speak  of — I  had  no  fit  company — I  had  n't 
anything  but  the  determination  to  climb  out  of  the  hole. 
Well,  I  've  done  that — and  I  've  got  among  the  kind  of 
people  that  I  naturally  like.  But  then  there  came  the 
question  of  whether  they  would  like  me.  I  tell  you 
frankly,  that  was  what  was  worrying  the  heart  out  of  me 
when  I  first  met  you.  I  like  to  be  confessing  it  to  you 
now — but  you  frightened  me  within  an  inch  of  my  life. 
Well  now,  you  see,  I  'm  not  scared  of  you  at  all.  And 
of  course  it  's  because  Julia  's  been  putting  me  through 
a  course  of  sprouts. ' ' 

The  figure  was  lost  upon  L,ady  Cressage,  but  the  spirit 
of  the  remarks  seemed  not  unpleasant  to  her.  "I'm  sure 
you  're  full  of  kindness,"  she  said.  "  You  must  forget 
that  I  snapped  at  you — about  papa." 

"  All  I  remember  about  that  is,"  he  began,  his  eye 
lighting  up  with  the  thought  that  this  time  the  oppor 
tunity  should  not  pass  unimproved,  "  that  you  said  he 
did  n't  shine  much  in  adversity— any  more  than  you  did. 
Now  on  that  last  point  I  disagree  with  you,  straight. 
There  would  n't  be  any  place  in  which  you  would  n't 
shine." 

"  Is  that  the  way  one  talks  to  one  's  niece  ?  "  she  asked 
him,  almost  listlessly.  "  Such  flattery  must  surely  be  bad 
for  the  young. "  Her  words  were  sprightly  enough,  but 
her  face  had  clouded  over.  She  had  no  heart  for  the 
banter. 

"  Ah  " — he  half-groaned.  "  I  only  wish  I  knew  what 
was  the  right  way  to  talk  to  you.  The  real  thing  is  that 
I  see  you  're  unhappy — and  that  gets  on  my  nerve — and 
I  should  like  to  ask  you  if  there  was  n't  something  I  could 


l68  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

do— and  ask  it  in  such  a  way  that  you  'd  have  to  admit 
there  was — and  I  don't  know  enough  to  do  it." 

He  had  a  wan  smile  for  thanks.  "  But  of  course  there 
is  nothing, ' '  she  replied,  gently. 

"  Oh,  there  must  be  !  "  he  insisted.  He  had  no  longer 
any  clear  notions  as  to  where  his  tongue  might  not  lead 
him.  ' '  There  must  be  !  You  said  I  might  talk  to  you  as 
I  would  to  Julia " 

"  Did  I?" 

"  Well,  I  'm  going  to,  anyway,"  he  went  on  stoutly, 
ignoring  the  note  of  definite  dissent  in  her  interruption. 
"  You  are  unhappy  !  You  spoke  about  being  a  chape- 
rone.  Well  now,  to  speak  plainly,  if  it  is  n't  entirely 
pleasant  for  you  with  Miss  Madden — why  would  n't  you 
be  a  chaperone  for  Julia  ?  I  must  be  going  to  I,ondon 
very  soon — but  she  can  stay  here,  or  go  to  Egypt,  or 
wherever  she  likes — and  of  course  you  would  do  every 
thing,  and  have  everything — whatever  you  liked,  too." 

"  The  conversation  is  getting  upon  rather  impossible 
grounds,  I  'm  afraid,"  she  said,  and  then  bit  her  lips  to 
gether.  Halting,  she  frowned  a  little  in  the  effort  of 
considering  her  further  words,  but  there  was  nothing 
severe  in  the  glance  which  she  lifted  to  him  as  she  began 
to  speak.  "  Let  us  walk  on.  I  must  tell  you  that  you 
misconceive  the  situation  entirely.  Nobody  could  pos 
sibly  be  kinder  or  more  considerate  than  Miss  Madden. 
Of  course  she  is  American — or  rather  Irish-American,  and 
I  'm  English,  and  our  notions  and  ways  are  not  always 
alike.  But  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  And  it  is  not 
so  much  that  she  has  many  thousands  a  year,  and  I  only 
a  few  hundreds.  That  in  itself  would  signify  nothing — 
and  if  I  must  take  help  from  somebody  I  would  rather 
take  it  from  Celia  Madden  than  anybody  else  I  know — 
but  this  is  the  point,  Mr.  Thorpe  :  I  do  not  eat  the  bread 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  169 

of  dependence  gracefully.  I  pull  wry  faces  over  it,  and  I 
don't  try  very  much  to  disguise  them.  That  is  my  fault. 
Yes — oh  yes,  I  know  it  is  a  fault — but  I  am  as  I  am. 
And  if  Miss  Madden  does  n't  mind — why" — she  con 
cluded  with  a  mirthless,  uncertain  laugh — "  why  on  earth 
should  you  ?  " 

"Ah,  why  should  I?"  he  echoed,  reflectively.  "I 
should  like  desperately  to  tell  you  why.  Sometime  I  will 
tell  you." 

They  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  brief  space.  Then  she 
put  out  her  hand  for  her  wrap,  and  as  she  paused,  he 
spread  it  over  her  shoulders. 

"  I  am  amazed  to  think  what  we  have  been  saying  to 
each  other,"  she  said,  buttoning  the  fur  as  they  moved  on 
again.  "  I  am  vexed  with  myself." 

' '  And  more  still  with  me, ' '  he  suggested. 

"  No-o — but  I  ought  to  be.  You  've  made  me  talk 
the  most  shocking  rubbish." 

'  There  we  disagree  again,  you  know.  Everything 
you  've  said  's  been  perfect.  What  you  're  thinking  of 
now  is  that  I  'm  not  an  old  enough  friend  to  have  been 
allowed  to  hear  it.  But  if  I  'm  not  as  old  a  friend  as 
some,  I  wish  I  could  make  you  feel  that  I  'm  as  solid  a 
friend  as  any — as  solid  and  as  staunch  and  as  true.  I 
wish  I  could  hear  you  say  you  believed  that." 

"  But  you  talk  of '  friends,'  "  she  said,  in  a  tone  not  at 
all  responsive — "  what  is  meant  by  '  friends'  ?  We  've 
chanced  to  meet  twice — and  once  we  barely  exchanged 
civilities,  and  this  time  we  've  been  hotel  acquaintances — 
hardly  more,  is  it  ? — and  you  and  your  young  people  have 
been  very  polite  to  me — and  I  in  a  silly  moment  have 
talked  to  you  more  about  my  affairs  than  I  should — I 
suppose  it  was  because  you  mentioned  my  father.  But 
'  friends  '  is  rather  a  big  word  for  that,  is  n't  it  ?  " 


THE    MARKET-PLACE 

Thorpe  pouted  for  a  dubious  moment.  "  I  can  think 
of  a  bigger  word  still, ' '  he  said,  daringly.  ' '  It 's  been  on 
the  tip  of  niy  tongue  more  than  once." 

She  quickened  her  pace.  The  air  had  grown  percepti 
bly  colder.  The  distant  mountains,  visible  ever  and 
again  through  the  bare  branches,  were  of  a  dark  and 
cheerless  blue,  and  sharply  defined  against  the  sky.  It 
was  not  yet  the  sunset  hour,  and  there  were  no  mists,  but 
the  light  of  day  seemed  to  be  going  out  of  the  heavens. 
He  hurried  on  beside  her  in  depressed  silence. 

Their  companions  were  hidden  from  view  in  a  convolu 
tion  of  the  winding  road,  but  they  were  so  near  that  their 
voices  could  be  heard  as  they  talked.  Frequently  the 
sound  of  laughter  came  backward  from  them. 

"  They  're  jolly  enough  down  there,"  he  commented 
at  last,  moodily. 

"  That  's  a  good  reason  for  our  joining  them,  is  n't 
it  ?  "  Her  tone  was  at  once  casual  and  pointed. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  join  them  !  "  he  protested. 
"  Why  don't  you  stay  with  me— and  talk  ?  " 

"  But  you  bully  me  so,"  she  offered  in  explanation. 

The  phrase  caught  his  attention.  Could  it  be  that  it 
expressed  her  real  feeling  ?  She  had  said,  he  recalled, 
that  he  had  made  her  talk.  Her  complaint  was  like  an 
admission  that  he  could  overpower  her  will.  If  that  were 
true — then  he  had  resources  of  masterfulness  still  in  re 
serve  sufficient  to  win  any  victory. 

"  No — not  bully  you,"  he  said  slowly,  as  if  objecting  to 
the  word  rather  than  the  idea.  '  That  would  n't  be  pos 
sible  to  me.  But  you  don't  know  me  well  enough  to 
understand  me. /I  am  the  kind  of  man  who  gets  the 
things  he  wants!  Let  me  tell  you  something  :  When  I 
was  at  Hadlow,  1  had  never  shot  a  pheasant  in  my  life. 
I  used  to  do  tolerably  well  with  a  rifle,  but  I  hardly  knew 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  I?I 

anything  about  a  shot-gun,  and  I  don't  suppose  I  'd  ever 
killed  more  than  two  or  three  birds  on  the  wing — and  that 
was  ages  ago.  But  I  took  the  notion  that  I  would  shoot 
better  than  anybody  else  there.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  it 
— and  I  simply  did  it,  that 's  all.  I  don't  know  if  you 
remember — but  I  killed  a  good  deal  more  than  both  the 
others  put  together.  I  give  you  that  as  an  example.  I 
wanted  you  to  think  that  I  was  a  crack  shot — and  so  I 
made  myself  be  a  crack  shot." 

' '  That  is  very  interesting, ' '  she  murmured.  They  did 
not  seem  to  be  walking  quite  so  fast. 

"  Don't  think  I  want  to  brag  about  myself,"  he  went 
on.  "  I  don't  fancy  myself — in  that  way.  I  'm  not 
specially  proud  of  doing  things — it  's  the  things  them 
selves  that  I  care  for.  If  some  men  had  made  a  great 
fortune,  they  would  be  conceited  about  it.  Well,  I  'm 
not.  What  I  'm  keen  about  is  the  way  to  use  that  fortune 
so  that  I  will  get  the  most  out  of  it — the  most  happiness, 
I  mean.  The  thing  to  do  is  to  make  up  your  mind  care 
fully  what  it  is  that  you  want,  and  to  put  all  your  power 
and  resolution  into  getting  it — and  the  rest  is  easy  enough. 

don't  think  there  's  anything  beyond  a  strong  man's 
reach,  if  he  only  believes  enough  in  himself."  JJ 

"  But  are  n't  you  confusing  two  things  ?  "  she  queried. 
The  subject  apparently  interested  her.  '  To  win  one's 
objects  by  sheer  personal  force  is  one  thing.  To  merely 
secure  them  because  one's  purse  is  longer  than  other 
people's — that  's  quite  another  matter." 

He  smiled  grimly  at  her.  "  Well,  I  '11  combine  the 
two,"  he  said. 

'  Then  I  suppose  you  will  be  altogether  irresistible, ' ' 
she  said,  lightly.  "  There  will  be  no  pheasants  left  for 
other  people  at  all." 

"  I   don't   mind   being   chaffed,"   he  told   her,   with 


1/2  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

gravity.  "  So  long  as  you  're  good-natured,  you  can 
make  game  of  me  all  you  like.  But  I  'm  in  earnest,  all 
the  same.  I  'm  not  going  to  play  the  fool  with  my  money 
and  my  power.  I  have  great  projects.  Sometime  I  '11 
tell  you  about  them.  They  will  all  be  put  through — 
every  one  of  them.  And  you  would  n't  object  to  talking 
them  over  with  me — would  you  ?  " 

11  My  opinion  on  '  projects  '  is  of  no  earthly  value— to 
myself  or  anyone  else. ' ' 

"  But  still  you  'd  give  me  your  advice  if  I  asked  it  ?  " 
he  persisted.  "  Especially  if  it  was  a  project  in  which 
you  were  concerned  ?  ' ' 

After  a  moment's  constrained  silence  she  said  to  him, 
"  You  must  have  no  projects,  Mr.  Thorpe,  in  which  I  am 
concerned.  This  talk  is  all  very  wide  of  the  mark.  You 
are  not  entitled  to  speak  as  if  I  were  mixed  up  with  your 
affairs.  There  is  nothing  whatever  to  warrant  it." 

"  But  how  can  you  help  being  in  my  projects  if  I  put 
you  there,  and  keep  you  there  ?  "  he  asked  her,  with 
gleeful  boldness.  "  And  just  ask  yourself  whether  you 
do  really  want  to  help  it.  Why  should  you  ?  You  've 
seen  enough  of  me  to  know  that  I  can  be  a  good  friend. 
And  I  'm  the  kind  of  friend  who  amounts  to  something 
— who  can  and  will  do  things  for  those  he  likes.  What 
obligation  are  you  under  to  turn  away  that  kind  of  a 
friend,  when  he  offers  himself  to  you  ?  Put  that  question 
plainly  to  yourself." 

* '  But  you  are  not  in  a  position  to  nominate  the  ques 
tions  that  I  am  to  put  to  myself,"  she  said.  The  effort  to 
import  decision  into  her  tone  and  manner  was  apparent. 
"  That  is  what  I  desire  you  to  understand.  We  must 
not  talk  any  more  about  me.  I  am  not  the  topic  of 
conversation." 

* v  But  first  let  me  finish  what  I  wanted  to  say, ' '  he  in- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  173 

sisted.  "  My  talk  won't  break  any  bones.  You  'd  be 
wrong  not  to  listen  to  it — because  it  's  meant  to  help  you 
— to  be  of  use  to  you.  This  is  the  thing,  L,ady  Cressage  :  I  ~ 
You  're  in  a  particularly  hard  and  unpleasant  position./  ^  6 
Like  my  friend  Plowden  ' '  — he  watched  her  face  narrowly* 
but  in  vain,  in  the  dull  light,  for  any  change  at  mention 
of  the  name — "  like  my  friend  Plowden  you  have  a  posi 
tion  and  title  to  keep  up,  and  next  to  nothing  to  keep  it 
up  on.  But  he  can  go  down  into  the  City  and  make 
money — or  try  to.  He  can  accept  Directorships  and  tips 
about  the  market  and  so  on,  from  men  who  are  disposed 
to  be  good  to  him,  and  who  see  how  he  can  be  of  use  to 
them — and  in  that  way  he  can  do  something  for  himself. 
But  there  is  the  difference  :  you  can't  do  these  things,  or 
you  think  you  can't,  which  is  the  same  thing.  You  're 
all  fenced  in  ;  you  're  surrounded  by  notice-boards,  telling 
you  that  you  must  n'  t  walk  this  way  or  look  that  way ; 
that  you  must  n't  say  this  thing  or  do  the  other.  Now 
your  friend  down  ahead  there — Miss  Madden — she  does  n't 
take  much  stock  in  notice-boards.  In  fact,  she  feeds  the 
gulls,  simply  because  she  's  forbidden  to  do  it.  "But you — 
you  don't  feed  any  gulls,  and  yet  you  're  annoyed  with 
yourself  that  you  don't.  Is  n't  that  the  case  ?  Have  n't 
I  read  you  right  ?  ' ' 

She  seemed  to  have  submitted  to  his  choice  of  a  topic. 
There  was  no  touch  of  expostulation  in  the  voice  with 
which  she  answered  him.  "  I  see  what  you  think  you 
mean, ' '  she  said. 

"  Think  !  "  he  responded,  with  self-confident  emphasis. 
"  I  'm  not  *  thinking.'  I  'm  reading  an  open  book. 
As  I  say,  you  're  not  contented— you  're  not  happy  ;  you 
don't  try  to  pretend  that  you  are.  But  all  the  same, 
though  you  hate  it,  you  accept  it.  You  think  that  you 
really  must  obey  your  notice-boards.  Now  what  I  tell 


174  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

you  you  ought  to  do  is  to  take  a  different  view.  Why 
should  you  put  up  all  this  barbed  wire  between  yourself 
and  your  friends  ?  It  does  n't  do  anybody  else  any  good 
— and  it  doesjy^  harm.  Why,  for  example,  should  Plow- 
den  be  free  to  take  things  from  me,  and  you  not  ?  " 

She  glanced  at  him,  with  a  cold  half-smile  in  her  eye. 
'*  Unfortunately  I  was  not  asked  to  join  your  Board." 

He  pressed  his  lips  tightly  together,  and  regarded  her 
meditatively  as  he  turned  these  words  over  in  his  mind. 
"  What  I  'm  doing  for  Plowden,"  he  said  with  slow 
vagueness  meanwhile,  "  it  is  n't  so  much  because  he  's  on 
the  Board.  He  's  of  no  special  use  to  me  there.  But  he 
was  nice  to  me  at  a  time  when  that  meant  everything  in 
the  world  to  me — and  I  don't  forget  things  of  that  sort. 
Besides,  I  like  him — and  it  pleases  me  to  let  him  in  for 
a  share  of  my  good  fortune.  See  ?  It  's  my  way  of  en 
joying  myself.  Well  now,  I  like  you  too,  and  why 
should  n't  I  be  allowed  to  let  you  in  also  for  a  share  of 
that  good  fortune  ?  You  think  there  's  a  difference,  but 
I  tell  you  it  's  imaginary — pure  moonshine.  Why,  the 
very  people  whose  opinion  you  're  afraid  of— what  did 
they  do  themselves  when  the  South  African  craze  was 
on  ?  I  'm  told  that  the  scum  of  the  earth  had  only  to 
own  some  Chartered  shares,  and  pretend  to  be  '  in  the 
know  '  about  them — and  they  could  dine  with  as  many 
duchesses  as  they  liked.  I  knew  one  or  two  of  the  men 
who  were  in  that  deal — I  would  n't  have  them  in  my 
house — but  it  seems  there  was  n't  any  other  house  they 
could  n't  go  to  in  London." 

<(  Oh  yes,  there  were  many  houses,"  she  interposed. 
"  It  was  n't  a  nice  exhibition  that  society  made  of  itself — 
one  admits  that, — but  it  was  only  one  set  that  quite  lost 
their  heads.  There  are  all  kinds  of  sets,  you  know.  And 
*— I  don't  think  I  see  your  application,  in  any  event.  The 


••SURELY  YOU  MUST  HAVE  SAID  EVERYTHING  NOW  THAT  YOU  WISHED  TO  SAY." 

— Pagt  J7S- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  I7§ 

craze,  as  you  call  it,  was  all  on  a  business  basis.  People 
ran  after  those  who  could  tell  them  which  shares  were 
going  up,  and  they  gambled  in  those  shares.  That  was 
all,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

Still  looking  intently  at  her,  he  dismissed  her  query 
with  a  little  shake  of  the  head.         '  On  a  business  basis,'  ' 
he  repeated,  as  if  talking  to  himself.     "  They  like  to  have 
things  '  on  a  business  basis. '  ' 

He  halted,  with  a  hand  held  out  over  her  arm,  and  she 
paused  as  well,  in  a  reluctant,  tentative  way.  "  I  don't 
understand  you, ' '  she  remarked,  blankly. 

"  Let  me  put  it  in  this  way,"  he  began,  knitting  his 
brows,  and  marshalling  the  thoughts  and  phrases  with 
which  his  mind  had  been  busy.  '  This  is  the  question. 
You  were  saying  that  you  were  n't  asked  to  join  my 
Board.  You  explained  in  that  way  how  I  could  do  things 
for  Plowden,  and  could  n't  do  them  for  you.  Oh,  I  know 
it  was  a  joke— but  it  had  its  meaning — at  least  to  me. 
Now  I  want  to  ask  you — if  I  decide  to  form  another  Com 
pany,  a  very  small  and  particular  Company — if  I  should 
decide  to  form  it,  I  say — could  I  come  to  you  and  ask  you 
to  join  that  Board  ?  Of  course  I  could  ask — but  what  I 
mean  is — well,  I  guess  you  know  what  I  mean." 

The  metaphor  had  seemed  to  him  a  most  ingenious  and 
satisfactory  vehicle  for  his  purpose,  and  it  had  broken 
down  under  him  amid  evidences  of  confusion  which  he 
could  not  account  for.  All  at  once  his  sense  of  physical 
ascendancy  had  melted  away — disappeared.  He  looked 
at  Lady  Cressage  for  an  instant,  and  knew  there  was 
something  shuffling  and  nerveless  in  the  way  his  glance 
then  shifted  to  the  dim  mountain  chain  beyond.  His 
heart  fluttered  surprisingly  inside  his  breast,  during  the 
silence  which  ensued. 

*  *  Surely  you  must  have  said  everything  now  that  you 


176  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

wished  to  say, ' '  she  observed  at  last.  She  had  been  study 
ing  intently  the  trodden  snow  at  her  feet,  and  did  not  even 
now  look  up.  The  constraint  of  her  manner,  and  a  cer 
tain  pleading  hesitation  in  her  words,  began  at  once  to 
restore  his  self-command. 

' '  Do  not  talk  of  it  any  further,  I  beg  of  you, ' '  she  went 
on.  [<  We — we  have  been  lagging  behind  unconscion 
ably.  If  you  wish  to  please  me,  let  us  hurry  forward  now. 
And  please  ! — no  more  talk  at  all  !  " 

"  But  just  a  word — you  're  not  angry  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  very  slightly. 

"  And  you  do  know  that  I  'm  your  friend — your  solid, 
twenty-four-carat  friend  ? ' ' 

After  a  moment's  pause,  she  made  answer,  almost  in  a 
whisper — "  Yes — be  my  friend — if  it  amuses  you," — and 
led  the  way  with  precipitate  steps  down  the  winding  road. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

TWO  days  later,  Thorpe  and  his  young  people  took  an 
early  morning  train  for  Geneva — homeward  bound. 

It  was  entirely  easy  to  accept  their  uncle's  declaration 
that  urgent  business  summoned  him  to  London,  yet  Julia 
and  Alfred,  when  they  chanced  to  exchange  glances  after 
the  announcement,  read  in  each  other's  eyes  the  formless 
impression  that  there  were  other  things  beside  business. 
Their  uncle,  they  realized,  must  be  concerned  in  large 
and  probably  venturesome  enterprises  ;  but  it  did  not  fit 
with  their  conception  of  his  character  that  commercial 
anxieties  should  possess  the  power  to  upset  him.  And 
upset  he  undeniably  was. 

They  traced  his  disturbance,  in  a  general  way,  to  the 
morning  following  the  excursion  up  to  Glion  and  Caux. 
He  told  them  then  that  he  had  slept  very  badly,  and  that 
they  must  "  count  him  out "  of  their  plans  for  the  day. 
He  continued  to  be  counted  out  of  what  remained  of  their 
stay  at  Territet.  He  professed  not  to  be  ill,  but  he  was 
restless  and  preoccupied.  He  ate  little,  but  smoked  con 
tinuously,  and  drank  spirits  a  good  deal,  which  they  had 
not  seen  him  do  before.  Nothing  would  induce  him  to  go 
out  either  day. 

Strangely  enough,  this  disturbance  of  their  uncle's 
equanimity  synchronized  with  an  apparent  change  in  the 
attitude  of  their  new  friends  on  the  floor  below.  This 
change  was,  indeed,  more  apparent  than  definable.  The 
ladies  were,  to  the  nicest  scrutiny,  as  kindly  and  affable 

12 

177 


178  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

as  ever,  but  the  sense  of  comradeship  had  somehow  van 
ished.  Insensibly,  the  two  parties  had  ceased  to  have 
impulses  and  tastes  in  common.  There  were  no  more 
trips  together — no  more  fortuitous  luncheons  or  formal 
dinners  as  a  group. 

The  young  people  looked  up  at  the  front  of  the  big 
hotel  on  this  morning  of  departure,  after  they  had  clam 
bered  over  the  drifts  into  the  snow-bedecked  train,  and 
opened  the  window  of  their  compartment.  They  made 
sure  that  they  could  identify  the  windows  of  Miss  Mad- 
den's  suite,  and  that  the  curtains  were  drawn  aside — but 
there  was  no  other  token  of  occupancy  discernible.  They 
had  said  good-bye  to  the  two  ladies  the  previous  evening, 
of  course — it  lingered  in  their  minds  as  a  rather  perfunc 
tory  ceremony — but  this  had  not  prevented  their  hoping 
for  another  farewell  glimpse  of  their  friends.  No  one 
came  to  wave  a  hand  from  the  balcony,  however,  and  the 
youngsters  looked  somewhat  dubiously  at  each  other  as 
the  train  moved.  Then  intuitively  they  glanced  toward 
their  uncle — and  perceived  that  he  had  his  hat  pulled  over 
his  eyes,  and  was  staring  with  a  kind  of  moody  scowl  at 
the  lake  opposite. 

"  Fortunately,  it  is  a  clear  day,"  said  Julia.  "  We 
shall  see  Mont  Blanc." 

Her  voice  seemed  to  have  a  hollow  and  unnatural  sound 
in  her  own  ears.  Neither  her  uncle  nor  her  brother  an 
swered  her. 

At  breakfast,  meanwhile,  in  the  apartment  toward 
which  the  young  people  had  turned  their  farewell  gaze  in 
vain,  Miss  Madden  sipped  her  coffee  thoughtfully  while 
she  read  a  letter  spread  upon  the  table  beside  her. 

"  It  's  as  they  said,"  she  observed.  '  You  are  not  al 
lowed  to  drive  in  the  mountains  with  your  own  horses 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  1 79 

and  carriage.  That  seems  rather  quaint  for  a  model  Re 
public — does  n't  it  ?  " 

"  I  daresay  they  're  quite  right,"  Lady  Cressage  re 
plied,  listlessly.  "  It  's  in  the  interest  of  safety.  People 
who  do  not  know  the  mountains  would  simply  go  and  get 
killed  in  avalanches  and  hurricanes — and  all  that.  I  sup 
pose  that  is  what  the  Government  wishes  to  prevent." 

"  And  you  're  on  the  side  of  the  Government,"  said  the 
other,  with  a  twinkle  in  her  brown  eyes.  "  Truly  now — 
you  hated  the  whole  idea  of  driving  over  the  Simplon." 

Lady  Cressage  lifted  her  brows  in  whimsical  assent  as 
she  nodded. 

"  But  do  you  like  this  Russian  plan  any  better  ?  "  de 
manded  Celia.  * '  I  wish  for  once  you  would  be  absolutely 
candid  and  open  with  me — and  let  me  know  to  the  utter 
most  just  what  you  think." 

* '  '  For  once '  ?  "  queried  the  other.  Her  tone  was 
placid  enough,  but  she  allowed  the  significance  of  the 
quotation  to  be  marked. 

"  Oh,  I  never  wholly  know  what  you  're  thinking," 
Miss  Madden  declared.  She  put  on  a  smile  to  alleviate 
the  force  of  her  remarks.  "  It  is  not  you  alone — Edith. 
Don't  think  that  !  But  it  is  ingrained  in  your  country 
women.  You  can't  help  it.  It  's  in  your  blood  to  keep 
things  back.  I  've  met  numbers  of  English  ladies  who, 
I  'm  ready  to  believe,  would  be  incapable  of  telling  an 
untruth.  But  I  've  never  met  one  of  whom  I  could  be 
sure  that  she  would  tell  me  the  whole  truth.  Don't  you 
see  this  case  in  point,"  she  pursued,  with  a  little  laugh, 
"  I  could  not  drag  it  out  of  you  that  you  disliked  the 
Simplon  idea,  so  long  as  there  was  a  chance  of  our  going. 
Immediately  we  find  that  we  can't  go,  you  admit  that  you 
hated  it." 

"  But  you  wanted  to  go,"  objected  Ladv  Cressage, 


ISO  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

quietly.  "  That  was  the  important  thing.  What  I 
wanted  or  did  not  want  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter." 

Celia's  face  clouded  momentarily.  "  Those  are  not  the 
kind  of  things  I  like  to  hear  you  say,"  she  exclaimed, 
with  a  certain  vigour.  "  They  put  everything  in  quite  a 
false  light.  I  am  every  whit  as  anxious  that  you  should 
be  pleased  as  that  I  should.  You  know  that  well  enough. 
I '  ve  said  it  a  thousand  times — and  have  I  ever  done  any 
thing  to  disprove  it  ?  But  I  never  can  find  out  what  you 
do  want — what  really  will  please  you  !  You  never  will 
propose  anything  ;  you  never  will  be  entirely  frank  about 
the  things  I  propose.  It  's  only  by  watching  you  out  of 
the  corner  of  my  eye  that  I  can  ever  guess  whether  any 
thing  is  altogether  to  your  liking  or  not. ' ' 

The  discussion  seemed  to  be  following  lines  familiar  to 
them  both.  "  That  is  only  another  way  of  saying  what 
you  discovered  long  ago,"  said  L,ady  Cressage,  passively 
— ' '  that  I  am  deficient  in  the  enthusiasms.  But  originally 
you  were  of  the  opinion  that  you  had  enthusiasms  enough 
for  two,  and  that  my  lack  of  them  would  redress  the  bal 
ance,  so  to  speak.  I  thought  it  was  a  very  logical  opinion 
then,  and,  from  my  own  point  of  view,  I  think  so  now. 
But  if  it  does  not  work  in  practice,  at  least  the  responsi 
bility  of  defending  it  is  not  mine." 

"  Delightful  !  "  cried  Celia,  smiling  gayly  as  she  put 
down  her  cup  again.  "  You  are  the  only  woman  I  've 
ever  known  who  was  worth  arguing  with.  The  mere 
operation  makes  me  feel  as  if  I  were  going  through  Ox 
ford — or  passing  the  final  Jesuit  examinations.  Heaven 
knows,  I  would  get  up  arguments  with  you  every  day, 
for  the  pure  enjoyment  of  the  thing — if  I  were  n't  eternally 
afraid  of  saying  something  that  would  hurt  your  feelings, 
and  then  you  would  n't  tell  me,  but  would  nurse  the  wound 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  l8l 

in  silence  in  the  dark,  and  I  should  know  that  something 
was  wrong,  and  have  to  watch  you  for  weeks  to  make  out 
what  it  was — and  it  would  all  be  too  unhappy.  But  it 
comes  back,  you  see,  to  what  I  said  before.  You  don't 
tell  me  things  !  " 

Edith  smiled  in  turn,  affectionately  enough,  but  with  a 
wistful  reserve.  "It  is  a  constitutional  defect — even 
national,  according  to  you.  How  shall  I  hope  to  change, 
at  this  late  day  ?  But  what  is  it  you  want  me  to  tell  you  ? 
—I  forget." 

' '  The  Russian  thing.  To  go  to  Vienna,  where  we  get 
our  passports,  and  then  to  Cracow,  and  through  to  Kief, 
which  they  say  is  awfully  well  worth  while — and  next 
Moscow — and  so  on  to  St.  Petersburg,  in  time  to  see  the 
ice  break  up.  It  is  only  in  winter  that  you  see  the  char 
acteristic  Russia  :  that  one  has  always  heard.  With  the 
furs  and  the  sledges,  and  the  three  horses  galloping  over 
the  snow — it  seems  to  me  it  must  be  the  best  thing  in 
Europe — if  you  can  call  Russia  Europe.  That 's  the  way 
it  presents  itself  to  me — but  then  I  was  brought  up  in  a 
half- Arctic  climate,  and  I  love  that  sort  of  thing — in  its 
proper  season.  It  is  different  with  you.  In  England  you 
don't  know  what  a  real  winter  is.  And  so  I  have  to  make 
quite  sure  that  you  think  you  would  like  the  Russian 
experiment." 

The  other  laughed  gently.  "  But  if  I  don't  know  what 
a  real  winter  is,  how  can  I  tell  whether  I  will  like  it  or 
not  ?  All  I  do  know  is  that  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  go  and 
find  out.  Oh  yes — truly — I  should  like  very  much  to  go. ' ' 

Miss  Madden  sighed  briefly.  "  All  right,"  she  said, 
but  with  a  notable  absence  of  conviction  in  her  tone. 

A  space  of  silence  ensued,  as  she  opened  and  glanced 
through  another  note,  the  envelope  of  which  had  borne  no 
postmark.  She  pouted  her  lips  over  the  contents  of  this 


1 82  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

missive,  and  raised  her  eyebrows  in  token  of  surprise,  but 
as  she  laid  it  down  she  looked  with  a  frank  smile  at  her 
companion. 

"  It  's  from  our  young  friend,"  she  explained,  genially 
— "the  painter-boy — Mr.  D'Aubigny.  It  is  to  remind 
me  of  a  promise  he  says  I  made — that  when  I  came  to 
London  he  should  paint  my  portrait.  I  don't  think  I 
promised  anything  of  the  kind— but  I  suppose  that  is  a 
detail.  It  's  all  my  unfortunate  hair.  They  must  have 
gone  by  this  time — they  were  to  go  very  early,  were  n't 
they?" 

L,ady  Cressage  glanced  at  the  clock.  "  It  was  8.40,  I 
think — frilly  half  an  hour  ago,"  she  answered,  with  a 
painstaking  effect  of  indifference. 

"  Curious  conglomeration  " — mused  the  other.  "  The 
boy  and  girl  are  so  civilized,  and  their  uncle  is  so  rudi 
mentary.  I  'm  afraid  they  are  spoiling  him — just  as  the 
missionaries  spoil  the  noble  savage.  They  ought  to  go 
away  and  leave  him  alone.  As  a  barbarian  he  was  rather 
effective — but  they  will  whitewash  him  and  gild  him  and 
make  a  tame  monstrosity  of  him.  But  I  suppose  it  's  in 
evitable.  Having  made  his  fortune,  it  is  the  rule  that  he 
must  set  up  as  a  gentleman.  We  do  it  more  simply  in 
America.  One  generation  makes  the  fortune,  and  leaves 
it  to  the  next  generation  to  put  on  the  frills.  My  Jather, 
for  example,  npviprjyiterfifl  in  thft_j»Hghtest  degree  the 
habits  he  formed  when  he  was  a  poor  workman.  To  the 
day  of  his  death,  blessed  old  man,  he  remained  what  he 
had  always  been — simple,  pious,  modest,  hard-working, 
kindly,  and  thrifty — a  model  peasant.  Nothing  ever 
tempted  him  a  hair's-breadth  out  of  the  path  he  had  been 
bred  to  walk  in.  But  such  nobility  of  mind  and  temper 
with  it  all  !  He  never  dreamed  of  suggesting  that  I 
should  walk  in  the  same  path.  From  my  earliest  child- 


HAVE  YOU   LOOKED  INTO   HIS  EYES  "{"—Page  183. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  183 

hood  I  cannot  remember  his  ever  putting  a  limitation 
upon  me  that  was  n't  entirely  sensible  and  generous.  I 
must  have  been  an  extremely  trying  daughter,  but  he 
never  said  so  ;  he  never  looked  or  acted  as  if  he  thought 
so. — But  I  never  stop  when  I  begin  talking  of  my  father." 

"  It  's  always  very  sweet  to  me  to  hear  you  talk  of 
him,"  I^ady  Cressage  put  in.  "  One  knows  so  few  people 
who  feel  that  way  about  their  fathers  !  ' ' 

Celia  nodded  gravely,  as  if  in  benevolent  comment  upon 
something  that  had  been  left  unsaid.  The  sight  of  the 
young  artist's  note  recalled  her  earlier  subject.  "  Of 
course  there  is  a  certain  difference,"  she  went  on,  care 
lessly, — "  this  Mr.  Thorpe  is  not  at  all  a  peasant,  as  the 
phrase  goes.  He  strikes  one,  sometimes,  as  having  been 
educated." 

"  Oh,  he  was  at  a  public  school,  Lord  Plowden  tells 
me, ' '  said  the  other,  with  interest.  * '  And  his  people  were 
booksellers — somewhere  in  London — so  that  he  got  a  good 
smattering  of  literature  and  all  that.  He  certainly  has 
more  right  to  set  up  as  a  gentleman  than  nine  out  of  ten 
of  the  nouveaux  riches  one  sees  flaunting  about  nowadays. 
And  he  can  talk  very  well  indeed — in  a  direct,  practical 
sort  of  way.  I  don't  quite  follow  you  about  his  niece  and 
nephew  spoiling  him.  Of  course  one  can  see  that  they 
have  had  a  great  effect  upon  him.  He  sees  it  himself — 
and  he  's  very  proud  of  it.  He  told  me  so,  quite  frankly. 
But  why  should  n't  it  be  a  nice  effect  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  Celia  replied,  idly.  "  It  seemed 
to  me  that  he  was  the  kind  of  piratical  buccaneer  who 
ought  n't  to  be  shaved  and  polished  and  taught  drawing- 
room  tricks — I  feel  that  merely  in  the  interest  of  the  fit 
ness  of  things.  Have  you  looked  into  his  eyes — I  mean 
when  they  've  got  that  lack-lustre  expression  ?  You  can 
see  a  hundred  thousand  dead  men  in  them." 


1 84  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  I  know  the  look  you  mean,"  said  L,ady  Cressage,  in 
a  low  voice. 

"  Not  that  I  assume  he  is  going  to  kill  anybody,"  pur 
sued  Miss  Madden,  with  ostensible  indifference,  but  fixing 
a  glance  of  aroused  attention  upon  her  companion's  face, 
' '  or  that  he  has  any  criminal  intentions  whatever.  He 
behaves  very  civilly  indeed,  and  apparently  his  niece  and 
nephew  idolize  him.  He  seems  to  be  the  soul  of  kindness 
to  them.  It  may  be  that  I  'm  altogether  wrong  about 
him — only  I  know  I  had  the  instinct  of  alarm  when  I 
caught  that  sort  of  dull  glaze  in  his  eye.  I  met  an  African 
explorer  a  year  ago,  or  so,  about  whose  expeditions  dark 
stories  were  told,  and  he  had  precisely  that  kind  of  eye. 
Perhaps  it  was  this  that  put  it  into  my  head — but  I  have 
a  feeling  that  this  Thorpe  is  an  exceptional  sort  of  man, 
who  would  have  the  capacity  in  him  for  terrible  things, 
if  the  necessity  arose  for  them." 

"  I  see  what  you  mean,"  the  other  repeated.  She 
toyed  with  the  bread-crumbs  about  her  plate,  and  reflect 
ively  watched  their  manipulation  into  squares  and  tri 
angles  as  she  went  on.  "But  may  that  not  be  merely  the 
visible  sign  of  an  exceptionally  strong  and  masterful  char 
acter  ?  And  is  n't  it,  after  all,  the  result  of  circumstances 
whether  such  a  character  makes,  as  you  put  it,  a  hundred 
thousand  dead  men,  or  enriches  a  hundred  thousand  lives 
instead  ?  We  agree,  let  us  say,  that  this  Mr.  Thorpe  im 
presses  us  both  as  a  powerful  sort  of  personality.  The 
question  arises,  How  will  he  use  his  power  ?  On  that 
point,  we  look  for  evidence.  You  see  a  dull  glaze  in  his 
eye,  and  you  draw  hostile  conclusions  from  it.  I  reply 
that  it  may  mean  no  more  than  that  he  is  sleepy.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  I  bring  proofs  that  are  actively  in  his 
favour.  He  is,  as  you  say,  idolized  by  the  only  two 
members  of  his  family  that  we  have  seen — persons,  more- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  185 

over,  who  have  been  brought  up  in  ways  different  to  his 
own,  and  who  would  not  start,  therefore,  with  prejudices 
in  his  favour.  Beyond  that,  I  know  of  two  cases  in  which 
he  has  behaved,  or  rather  undertaken  to  behave,  with 
really  lavish  generosity — and  in  neither  case  was  there 
any  claim  upon  him  of  a  substantial  nature.  He  seems 
to  me,  in  fact,  quite  too  much  disposed  to  share  his  fortune 
with  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry — anybody  who  excites  his 
sympathy  or  gets  into  his  affections."  Having  said  this 
much,  Lady  Cressage  swept  the  crumbs  aside  and  looked 
up.  "  So  now,"  she  added,  with  a  flushed  smile,  "  since 
you  love  arguments  so  much,  how  do  you  answer  that  ?  ' ' 

Celia  smiled  back.  "  Oh,  I  don't  answer  it  at  all,"  she 
said,  and  her  voice  carried  a  kind  of  quizzical  implication. 
' '  Your  proofs  overwhelm  me.  I  know  nothing  of  him — 
and  you  know  so  much  !  '  * 

Lady  Cressage  regarded  her  companion  with  a  novel 
earnestness  and  directness  of  gaze.  ' '  I  had  a  long,  long 
talk  with  him — the  afternoon  we  came  down  from  Glion." 

Miss  Madden  rose,  and  going  to  the  mantel  lighted  a 
cigarette.  She  did  not  return  to  the  table,  but  after  a 
brief  pause  came  and  took  an  easy-chair  beside  her  friend, 
who  turned  to  face  her.  "  My  dear  Edith,"  she  said, 
with  gravity,  "  I  think  you  want  to  tell  me  about  that 
talk — and  so  I  beg  you  to  do  so.  But  if  I  'in  mistaken — 
why  then  I  beg  you  to  do  nothing  of  the  kind/' 

The  other  threw  out  her  hands  with  a  gesture  of  wearied 
impatience,  and  then  clasped  them  upon  her  knee.  "  I 
seem  not  to  know  what  I  want !  What  is  the  good  of  talk 
ing  about  it  ?  What  is  the  good  of  anything  ?  " 

"  Now— now  !  "  Celia' s  assumption  of  a  monitor's 
tone  had  reference,  apparently,  to  something  understood 
between  the  two,  for  Lady  Cressage  deferred  to  it,  and 
even  summoned  the  ghost  of  a  smile. 


1 86  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  There  is  really  nothing  to  tell,"  she  faltered,  hesitat 
ingly—"  that  is,  nothing  happened.  I  don't  know  how 
to  say  it — the  talk  left  my  mind  in  a  whirl.  I  could  n't 
tell  you  why.  It  was  no  particular  thing  that  was  said — 
it  seemed  to  be  more  the  things  that  I  thought  of  while 
something  else  was  being  talked  about — but  the  whole 
experience  made  a  most  tremendous  impression  upon  me. 
I  've  tried  to  straighten  it  out  in  my  own  mind,  but  I  can 
make  nothing  of  it.  That  is  what  disturbs  me,  Celia. 
No  man  has  ever  confused  me  in  this  silly  fashion  before. 
Nothing  could  be  more  idiotic.  I  'm  supposed  to  hold 
my  own  in  conversation  with  people  of — well,  with  people 
of  a  certain  intellectual  rank, — but  this  man,  who  is  of 
hardly  any  intellectual  rank  at  all,  and  who  rambled  on 
without  any  special  aim  that  one  could  see — he  reduced 
my  brain  to  a  sort  of  porridge.  I  said  the  most  extraor 
dinary  things  to  him — babbling  rubbish  which  a  school 
girl  would  be  ashamed  of.  How  is  that  to  be  accounted 
for  ?  I  try  to  reason  it  out,  but  I  can't.  Can  you  ?  " 

"  Nerves,"  said  Miss  Madden,  judicially. 

' '  Oh,  that  is  meaningless, ' '  the  other  declared.  ' '  Any 
body  can  say  *  nerves.'  Of  course,  all  human  thought 
and  action  is  '  nerves.'  ' 

"  But  yours  is  a  special  case  of  nerves,"  Celia  pursued, 
with  gentle  imperturbability.  "  I  think  I  can  make  my 
meaning  clear  to  you — though  the  parallel  is  n't  precisely 
an  elegant  one.  The  finest  thorough-bred  dog  in  the 
•world,  if  it  is  beaten  viciously  and  cowed  in  its  youth, 
will  always  have  a  latent  taint  of  nervousness,  apprehen 
sion,  timidity — call  it  what  you  like.  Well,  it  seems  to 
me  there 's  something  like  that  in  your  case,  Edith.  They 
hurt  you  too  cruelly,  poor  girl.  I  won't  say  it  broke  your 
nerve — but  it  made  a  flaw  in  it.  Just  as  a  soldier's  old 
wound  aches  when  there  's  a  storm  in  the  air — so  your 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  l8/ 

old  hurt  distracts  and  upsets  you  under  certain  psycho 
logical  conditions.  It 's  a  rather  clumsy  explanation,  but 
I  think  it  does  explain." 

"  Perhaps — I  don't  know,"  Edith  replied,  in  a  tone  of 
melancholy  reverie.  * '  It  makes  a  very  poor  creature  out 
of  me,  whatever  it  is.  * ' 

' '  I  rather  lose  patience,  Edith, ' '  her  companion  admon 
ished  her,  gravely.  "  Nobody  has  a  right  to  be  so  de 
ficient  in  courage  as  you  allow  yourself  to  be. ' ' 

"  But  I  'm  not  a  coward,"  the  other  protested.  "  I 
could  be  as  brave  as  anybody — as  brave  as  you  are — if  a 
chance  were  given  me.  But  of  what  use  is  bravery  against 
a  wall  twenty  feet  high  ?  I  can't  get  over  it.  I  only 
wound  and  cripple  myself  by  trying  to  tear  it  down,  or 
break  through  it. — Oh  yes,  I  know  what  you  say  !  You 
say  there  is  no  wall — that  it  is  all  an  illusion  of  mine. 
But  unfortunately  I  'm  unable  to  take  that  view.  I  've 
battered  myself  against  it  too  long — too  sorely,  Celia  !  ' ' 

Celia  shrugged  her  shoulders  in  comment.  "  Oh,  we 
women  all  have  our  walls — our  limitations — if  it  comes  to 
that,"  she  said,  with  a  kind  of  compassionate  impatience 
in  her  tone.  ' '  We  are  all  ridiculous  together — from  the 
point  of  view  of  human  liberty.  The  free  woman  is  a 
fraud — a  myth.  She  is  as  empty  an  abstraction  as  the 
'  Liberty,  Equality,  Fraternity  '  that  the  French  put  on 
their  public  buildings.  I  used  to  have  the  most  wonder 
ful  visions  of  what  independence  would  mean.  I  thought 
that  when  I  was  absolutely  my  own  master,  with  my 
money  and  my  courage  and  my  free  mind,  I  would  do 
things  to  astonish  all  mankind.  But  really  the  most  I 
achieve  is  the  occasional  mild  surprise  of  a  German 
waiter.  Even  that  palls  on  one  after  a  time.  And  if 
you  were  independent,  Edith — if  you  had  any  amount  of 
money — what  difference  do  you  think  it  would  make  to 


THE   MARKET-PLACE 

you  ?  What  could  you  do  that  you  don't  do,  or  could  n't 
do,  now  ?  ' ' 

' '  Ah,  now  ' '  — said  the  other,  looking  up  with  a  thin 
smile — * '  now  is  an  interval — an  oasis. ' ' 

Miss  Madden' s  large,  handsome,  clear-hued  face,  habit 
ually  serene  in  its  expression,  lost  something  in  composure 
as  she  regarded  her  companion.  "  I  don't  know  why  you 
should  say  that,"  she  observed,  gently  enough,  but  with 
an  effect  of  reproof  in  her  tone.  ' '  I  have  never  put  limits 
to  the  connection,  in  my  own  mind — and  it  had  n't  oc 
curred  to  me  that  you  were  doing  so  in  yours." 

"  But  I  'm  not,"  interposed  L/ady  Cressage. 

'  *  Then  I  understand  you  less  than  ever.  Why  do  you 
talk  about  an  '  interval '  ?  What  was  the  other  word  ? — 
'  oasis  ' — as  if  this  were  a  brief  halt  for  refreshments  and  a 
breathing-spell,  and  that  presently  you  must  wander  forth 
into  the  desert  again.  That  suggestion  is  none  of  mine. 
We  agreed  that  we  would  live  together — '  pool  our  issues, ' 
as  they  say  in  America.  I  wanted  a  companion  ;  so  did 
you.  I  have  never  for  an  instant  regretted  the  arrange 
ment.  Some  of  my  own  shortcomings  in  the  matter  I 
have  regretted.  You  were  the  most  beautiful  young 
woman  I  had  ever  seen,  and  you  were  talented,  and  you 
seemed  to  like  me — and  I  promised  myself  that  I  would 
add  cheerfulness  and  a  gay  spirit  to  your  other  gifts — and 
in  that  I  have  failed  wofully.  You  're  not  happy.  I  see 
that  only  too  clearly." 

"  I  know — I  'm  a  weariness  and  a  bore  to  you,"  broke 
in  the  other,  despondingly. 

:<  That  is  precisely  what  you  are  not,"  Celia  went  on. 
"  We  must  n't  use  words  of  that  sort.  They  don't  de 
scribe  anything  in  our  life  at  all.  But  I  should  be  better 
pleased  with  myself  if  I  could  really  put  my  finger  on 
what  it  is  that  is  worrying  you.  Kven  if  we  decided  to 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  189 

break  up  our  establishment,  I  have  told  you  that  you 
should  not  go  back  to  what  you  regard  as  poverty.  Upon 
chat  score,  I  had  hoped  that  your  mind  was  easy.  As  I 
say,  I  think  you  attach  more  importance  to  money  than 
those  who  have  tested  its  powers  would  agree  to — but 
that  's  neither  here  nor  there.  You  did  not  get  on  well 
on  ;£6oo  a  year — and  that  is  enough.  You  shall  never 
have  less  than  twice  that  amount,  whether  we  keep  to 
gether  or  not — and  if  it  ought  to  be  three  times  the 
amount,  that  does  n't  matter. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  realize,  Edith  " — she  spoke  with 
increased  animation — "  that  you  are  my  caprice.  You 
are  the  possession  that  I  am  proudest  of  and  fondest  of. 
There  is  nothing  else  that  appeals  to  me  a  hundredth  part 
as  much  as  you  do.  Since  I  became  independent,  the  one 
real  satisfaction  I  have  had  is  in  being  able  to  do  things 
for  you — to  have  you  with  me,  and  make  you  share  in 
the  best  that  the  world  can  offer.  And  if  with  it  all 
you  remain  unhappy,  why  then  you  see  I  don't  know 
what  to  do." 

"  Oh,  I  know — I  behave  very  badly!  "  Lady  Cressage 
had  risen,  and  with  visible  agitation  began  now  to  pace 
the  room.  "  I  deserve  to  be  thrown  into  the  lake — I 
know  it  well  enough!  But  Celia — truly — I  'm  as  incapa 
ble  of  understanding  it  as  you  are.  It  must  be  that  I  am 
possessed  by  devils — like  the  people  in  the  New  Testa 
ment.  Perhaps  someone  will  come  along  who  can  cast 
them  out.  I  don't  seem  able  to  do  it  myself.  I  can't 
rule  myself  at  all.  It  needs  a  strength  I  have  n't  got  !  " 

11  Ah  !  "  said  Celia,  thoughtfully.  The  excited  sen 
tences  which  Edith  threw  over  her  shoulder  as  she  walked 
appeared,  upon  examination,  to  contain  a  suggestion. 

"  My  dear  child,"  she  asked  abruptly,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  "  do  you  want  to  marry  ?  " 


190  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Lady  Cressage  paused  at  the  mantel,  and  exchanged  a 
long  steadfast  glance  with  her  friend.  Then  she  came 
slowly  forward.  "  Ah,  that  is  what  I  don't  know,"  she 
answered.  Apparently  the  reply  was  candid. 

Miss  Madden  pursed  her  lips,  and  frowned  a  little  in 
thought.  Then,  at  some  passing  reflection,  she  smiled  in 
a  puzzled  fashion.  At  last  she  also  rose,  and  went  to  the 
mantel  for  another  cigarette.  "  Now  I  am  going  to  talk 
plainly,"  she  said,  with  decision.  "  Since  the  subject  is 
mentioned,  less  harm  will  be  done  by  speaking  out  than 
by  keeping  still.  There  is  a  debate  in  your  mind  on  the 
matter,  is  n't  there  ?" 

The  other  lady,  tall,  slender,  gently  ruminative  once 
more,  stood  at  the  window  and  with  bowed  head  looked 
down  at  the  lake.  "  Yes — I  suppose  it  might  be  called 
that, ' '  she  replied,  in  a  low  voice. 

' '  And  you  hesitate  to  tell  me  about  it  ?  You  would 
rather  not?"  Celia,  after  an  instant's  pause,  went  on 
without  waiting  for  an  answer.  "  I  beg  that  you  won't 
assume  my  hostility  to  the  idea,  Edith.  In  fact,  I  'm  not 
sure  I  don't  think  it  would  be  the  best  thing  for  you  to 
do.  Marriage,  a  home,  children — these  are  great  things 
to  a  woman.  We  can  say  that  she  pays  the  price  of  bond 
age  for  them — but  to  know  what  that  signifies,  we  must 
ask  what  her  freedom  has  been  worth  to  her. ' ' 

"Yes,"  interposed  the  other,  from  the  window. 
* '  What  have  I  done  with  my  freedom  that  has  been 
worth  while  ?  " 

"  Not  much,"  murmured  Celia,  under  her  breath. 
She  moved  forward,  and  stood  beside  Edith,  with 
an  arm  round  her  waist.  They  looked  together  at  the 
lake. 

"  It  is  Lord  Plowden,  is  it  not  ?  "  asked  the  Americao. 
as  the  silence  grew  constrained. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  19! 

L,ady  Cressage  looked  up  alertly,  and  then  hesitated 
over  her  reply.  "  No,"  she  said  at  last.  Upon  reflec 
tion,  and  with  a  dim  smile  flickering  in  her  side-long 
glance  at  Celia,  she  added,  "  He  wants  to  marry  you, 
you  know." 

"  Leave  that  out  of  consideration,"  said  Celia,  com 
posedly.  ' (  He  has  never  said  so.  I  think  it  was  more 
his  mother's  idea  than  his,  if  it  existed  at  all.  Of  course 
I  am  not  marrying  him,  or  anybody  else.  But  I  saw  at 
Hadlow  that  you  and  he  were — what  shall  I  say  ? — old 
friends." 

"  He  must  marry  money,"  the  other  replied.  In  an 
unexpected  burst  of  candour  she  went  on  :  "  He  would 
have  asked  me  to  marry  him  if  I  had  had  money.  There 
is  no  harm  in  telling  you  that.  It  was  quite  understood 
— oh,  two  years  ago.  And  I  think  I  wished  I  had  the 
money — then." 

"  And  you  don't  wish  it  now  ?  " 

A  slight  shake  of  Edith's  small,  shapely  head  served 
for  answer.  After  a  little,  she  spoke  in  a  musing  tone  : 
* '  He  is  going  to  have  money  of  his  own,  very  soon,  but 
I  don't  think  it  would  attract  me  now.  I  like  him  per 
sonally,  of  course,  but — there  is  no  career,  no  ambition, 
no  future. ' ' 

"  A  Viscount  has  future  enough  behind  him,"  observed 
Celia. 

"  It  does  n't  attract  me,"  the  other  repeated,  vaguely. 
"  He  is  handsome,  and  clever,  and  kind  and  all  that — but 
he  would  never  appeal  to  any  of  the  great  emotions — nor 
be  capable  of  them  himself.  He  is  too  smooth,  too  well- 
balanced,  too  much  the  gentleman.  That  expresses  it 
badly — but  do  you  see  what  I  mean  ?  " 

Celia  turned,  and  studied  the  beautiful  profile  beside 
her,  in  a  steady,  comprehending  look. 


IQ2  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  see  what  you  mean,"  she  said,  with 
significance  in  her  tone. 

Lady  Cressage  flushed,  and  released  herself  from  her 
companion's  arm.  "  But  I  don't  know  myself  what  I 
mean  !  "  she  exclaimed,  despairingly,  as  she  moved  away. 
"  I  don't  know  !— I  don't  know  !  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ON  the  last  day  of  February,  Mrs.  Dabney  was  sur 
prised  if  not  exhilarated  by  a  visit  from  her  two 
children  in  the  little  book-shop. 

"It  's  the  last  day  in  the  world  that  I  should  have 
thought  you  'd  'a'  come  out  on,"  she  told  them,  in  salu 
tation — and  for  comment  they  all  glanced  along  the  dark 
narrow  alley  of  shelves  to  the  street  window.  A  gloomy 
spectacle  it  was  indeed,  with  a  cold  rain  slanting  through 
the  discredited  remnants  of  a  fog,  which  the  east  wind  had 
broken  up,  but  could  not  drive  away,  and  with  only  now 
and  again  a  passer-by  moving  across  the  dim  vista,  masked 
beneath  an  umbrella,  or  bent  forward  with  chin  buried  in 
turned-up  collar.  In  the  doorway  outside  the  sulky  boy 
stamped  his  feet  and  slapped  his  sides  with  his  arms  in 
pantomimic  mutiny  against  the  task  of  guarding  the  book 
stalls'  dripping  covers,  which  nobody  would  be  mad 
enough  to  pause  over,  much  less  to  lift. 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  'd  ought  to  let  the  boy  bring  in 
the  books  and  go  home, ' '  she  said,  as  their  vague  gaze 
was  attracted  by  his  gestures.  "  But  it  is  n't  three  yet — 
it  seems  ridiculous  to  close  up.  Still,  if  you  'd  be  more 
comfortable  upstairs ' ' 

1 '  Why,  mamma !  The  idea  of  making  strangers  of  us, ' ' 
protested  Julia.  She  strove  to  make  her  tone  cheerful, 
but  its  effect  of  rebuke  was  unmistakable. 

The  mother,  leaning  against  the  tall  desk,  looked 
blankly  at  her  daughter.  The  pallid  flicker  of  the  gas- 

193 


194  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

jet  overhead  made  her  long,  listless  face  seem  more  devoid 
of  colour  than  ever. 

"  But  you  are  as  good  as  strangers,  are  n't  you  ?  "  she 
observed,  coldly.  ' '  You  '  ve  been  back  in  town  ten  days 
and  more,  and  I  've  scarcely  laid  eyes  upon  either  of  you. 
But  don't  you  want  to  sit  down  ?  You  can  put  those 
parcels  on  the  floor  anywhere.  Or  shall  I  do  it  for  you  ?  ' ' 

Alfred  had  been  lounging  in  the  shadowed  corner 
against  a  heap  of  old  magazines  tied  in  bundles.  He 
sprang  up  now  and  cleared  the  chair,  but  his  sister  de 
clined  it  with  a  gesture.  Her  small  figure  had  straight 
ened  itself  into  a  kind  of  haughty  rigidity. 

"  There  has  been  so  much  to  do,  mamma,"  she  ex 
plained,  in  a  clear,  cool  voice.  ; '  We  have  had  hundreds 
of  things  to  buy  and  to  arrange  about.  All  the  responsi 
bility  for  the  housekeeping  rests  upon  me — and  Alfred  has 
his  studio  to  do.  But  of  course  we  should  have  looked  in 
upon  you  sooner — and  much  oftener — if  we  had  thought 
you  wanted  us.  But  really,  when  we  came  to  you,  the 
very  day  after  our  return,  it  was  impossible  for  us  to  pre 
tend  that  you  were  glad  to  see  us. ' ' 

"  Oh,  I  was  glad  enough,"  Mrs.  Dabney  made  answer, 
mechanically.  "  Why  should  n't  I  be  glad  ?  And  why 
should  you  think  I  was  n't  glad  ?  Did  you  expect  me  to 
shout  and  dance  ?  ' ' 

"But  you  said  you  would  n't  come  to  see  us  in  Oving- 
ton  Square,"  Alfred  reminded  her. 

"That  's  different,"  she  declared.  "What  would  I 
be  doing  in  Ovington  Square  ?  It  's  all  right  for  you  to 
be  there.  I  hope  you  '11  be  happy  there.  But  it  would  n't 
add  anything  to  your  happiness  to  have  me  there  ;  it 
would  be  quite  the  other  way  about.  I  know  that,  if  you 
don't.  This  is  my  place,  here,  and  I  intend  to  stick  to 
it!'1 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  IQ5 

Julia's  bright  eyes,  scanning  the  apathetic,  stubborn 
maternal  countenance,  hardened  beyond  their  wont. 
'  *  You  talk  as  if  there  had  been  some  class  war  declared, ' ' 
she  said,  with  obvious  annoyance.  "  You  know  that 
Uncle  Stormont  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  be  as 
nice  to  you  as  he  is  to  us." 

"  Uncle  Stormont  !  "  Mrs.  Dabney's  repetition  of  the 
words  was  surcharged  with  hostile  sarcasm. 

"  But  his  name  was  Stormont  as  much  as  it  was  Joel," 
broke  in  Alfred,  from  his  dark  corner.  *  *  He  has  a  perfect 
right  to  use  the  one  he  likes  best. ' ' 

"  Oh,  I  don't  dispute  his  right,"  she  replied,  once  more 
in  her  passionless  monotone.  "  Bverybody  can  call  them 
selves  whatever  they  please.  It 's  no  affair  of  mine.  You 
and  your  sister  spell  your  father's  name  in  a  way  to  suit 
yourselves  :  I  never  interfered,  did  I  ?  You  have  your 
own  ideas  and  your  own  tastes.  They  are  quite  beyond 
me— but  they  're  all  right  for  you.  I  don't  criticize  them 
at  all.  What  I  say  is  that  it  is  a  great  mercy  your  uncle 
came  along,  with  his  pockets  full  of  money  to  enable  you 
to  make  the  most  of  them.  If  I  were  religious  I  should 
call  that  providential. ' ' 

"  And  that  's  what  we  do  call  it,"  put  in  Julia,  with 
vivacity.  ' '  And  why  should  you  shut  your  doors  against 
this  Providence,  mamma?  Just  think  of  it  !  We  don't 
insist  upon  your  coming  to  live  at  Ovington  Square  at  all. 
Probably,  as  you  say,  you  would  be  happier  by  yourself— 
at  least  for  the  present.  But  when  Uncle  St — when  uncle 
says  there  's  more  than  enough  money  for  us  all,  and  is 
only  too  anxious  for  you  to  let  him  do  things  for  you — 
why,  he  's  your  own  brother  !  It  's  as  if  I  should  refuse 
to  allow  Alfred  to  do  things  for  me." 

"  That  you  never  did,"  interposed  the  young  man, 
gayly.  "  I  '11  say  that  for  you,  Jule." 


196  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

' '  And  never  will, ' '  she  assured  him,  with  cheerful  de 
cision.  ' l  But  no — mamma — can' t  you  see  what  we  mean  ? 
We  have  done  what  you  wanted  us  to  do.  You  sent  us 
both  to  much  better  schools  than  you  could  afford,  from 
the  time  we  were  of  no  age  at  all — and  when  uncle's 
money  came  you  sent  us  to  Cheltenham.  We  did  you  no 
discredit.  We  worked  very  well ;  we  behaved  ourselves 
properly.  We  came  back  to  you  at  last  with  fair  reason 
to  suppose  that  you  would  be — I  won't  say  proud,  but  at 
least  well  satisfied  with  us — and  then  it  turned  out  that 
you  did  n't  like  us  at  all." 

"  I  never  said  anything  of  the  sort,"  the  mother  de 
clared,  with  a  touch  of  animation. 

"Oh  no — you  never  said  it,"  Julia  admitted,  "but 
what  else  can  we  think  you  mean  ?  Our  uncle  sends  for 
us  to  go  abroad  with  him,  and  you  busy  yourself  getting 
me  ready,  and  having  new  frocks  made  and  all  that — and 
I  never  hear  a  suggestion  that  you  don't  want  me  to 

' '  But  I  did  want  you  to  go, ' '  Mrs.  Dabney  affirmed. 

' '  Well,  then,  when  I  come  back — when  we  come  back, 
and  tell  you  what  splendid  and  generous  plans  uncle  has 
made  for  us,  and  how  he  has  taken  a  beautiful  furnished 
house  and  made  it  our  home,  and  so  on, — why,  you  won't 
even  come  and  look  at  the  house  !  ' ' 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  see  it,"  the  mother  retorted,  ob 
stinately. 

"  Well,  then,  you  need  n't  !  "  said  Alfred,  rising.  "  No 
body  will  ask  you  again. ' ' 

'  *  Oh  yes  they  will, ' '  urged  Julia,  glancing  meaningly 
from  one  to  the  other.  All  her  life,  as  it  seemed,  she  had 
been  accustomed  to  mediate  between  these  two  unpliable 
and  stubborn  temperaments.  From  her  earliest  childhood 
she  had  understood,  somehow,  that  there  was  a  Dabney 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  197 

habit  of  mind,  which  was  by  comparison  soft  and  if  not 
yielding,  then  politic  :  and  set  over  against  it  there  was  a 
Thorpe  temper  full  of  gnarled  and  twisted  hardnesses,  and 
tenacious  as  death.  In  the  days  of  her  grandfather  Thorpe, 
whom  she  remembered  with  an  alarmed  distinctness,  there 
had  existed  a  kind  of  tacit  idea  that  his  name  alone  ac 
counted  for  and  justified  the  most  persistent  and  stormy 
bad  temper.  That  old  man  with  the  scowling  brows  bul 
lied  everybody,  suspected  everybody,  apparently  disliked 
everybody,  vehemently  demanded  his  own  will  of  every 
body — and  it  was  all  to  be  explained,  seemingly,  by  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  Thorpe. 

After  his  disappearance  from  the  scene — unlamented,  to 
the  best  of  Julia's  juvenile  perceptions — there  had  been 
relatively  peaceful  times  in  the  book-shop  and  the  home 
overhead,  yet  there  had  existed  always  a  recognized  line 
of  demarcation  running  through  the  household.  Julia 
and  her  father — a  small,  hollow-chested,  round-shouldered 
young  man,  with  a  pale,  anxious  face  and  ingratiating 
manner,  who  had  entered  the  shop  as  an  assistant,  and 
remained  as  a  son-in-law,  and  was  now  the  thinnest  of  un 
substantial  memories — Julia  and  this  father  had  stood 
upon  one  side  of  this  impalpable  line  as  Dabneys,  other 
wise  as  meek  and  tractable  persons,  who  would  not  expect 
to  have  their  own  way. 

Alfred  and  his  mother  were  Thorpes — that  is  to  say, 
people  who  necessarily  had  their  own  way.  Their  domi 
nation  was  stained  by  none  of  the  excesses  which  had 
rendered  the  grandfather  intolerable.  Their  surface 
temper  was  in  truth  almost  sluggishly  pacific.  Under 
neath,  however,  ugly  currents  and  sharp  rocks  were  well 
known  to  have  a  potential  existence — and  it  was  the  mis 
sion  of  the  Dabneys  to  see  that  no  wind  of  provocation 
unduly  stirred  these  depths.  Worse  even  than  these  pos- 


198  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

sibilities  of  violence,  however,  so  far  as  every-day  life  was 
concerned,  was  the  strain  of  obstinacy  which  belonged  to 
the  Thorpe  temper.  A  sort  of  passive  mulishness  it  was, 
impervious  to  argument,  immovable  under  the  most  sym 
pathetic  pressure,  which  particularly  tried  the  Dabney 
patience.  It  seemed  to  Julia  now,  as  she  interposed  her 
soothing  influence  between  these  jarring  forces,  that  she 
had  spent  whole  years  of  her  life  in  personal  interventions 
of  this  sort. 

11  Oh  yes  they  will,"  she  repeated,  and  warned  her 
brother  into  the  background  with  a  gesture  half-pleading, 
half- peremptory.  '  We  are  your  children,  and  we  're  not 
bad  or  undutiful  children  at  all,  and  I  'm  sure  that  when 
you  think  it  all  over,  mamma,  you  '11  see  that  it  would  be 
absurd  to  let  anything  come  between  you  and  us." 

*  *  How  could  I  help  letting  it  come  ?  ' '  demanded  the 
mother,  listlessly  argumentative.  "  You  had  outgrown 
me  and  my  ways  altogether.  It  was  nonsense  to  suppose 
that  you  would  have  been  satisfied  to  come  back  and  live 
here  again,  over  the  shop.  I  could  n't  think  for  the  life 
of  me  what  I  was  going  to  do  with  you.  But  now  your 
uncle  has  taken  all  that  into  his  own  hands.  He  can 
give  you  the  kind  of  home  that  goes  with  your  education 
and  your  ideas — and  what  more  do  you  want  ?  Why 
should  you  come  bothering  me  ?  ' ' 

"  How  unjust  you  are,  mamma  ! "  cried  Julia,  with  a 
glaze  of  tears  upon  her  bright  glance. 

The  widow  took  her  elbow  from  the  desk,  and,  slowly 
straightening  herself,  looked  down  upon  her  daughter. 
Her  long  plain  face,  habitually  grave  in  expression,  con 
veyed  no  hint  of  exceptional  emotion,  but  the  fingers  of 
the  large,  capable  hands  she  clasped  before  her  writhed 
restlessly  against  one  another,  and  there  was  a  husky 
threat  of  collapse  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke  : 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  1 99 

"  If  you  ever  have  children  of  your  own,"  she  said,/ 
"  and  you  slave  your  life  out  to  bring  them  up  so  that 
they  '11  think  themselves  your  betters,  and  they  act  ac-l 
cordingly — then  you  '11  understand.  But  you  don't  under-l 
stand  now — and  there  's  no  good  our  talking  any  more 
about  it.  Come  in  whenever  it  's  convenient — and  you 
feel  like  it.  I  must  go  back  to  my  books  now." 

She  took  up  a  pen  at  this,  and  opened  the  cash-book 
upon  the  blotter.  Her  children,  surveying  her  blankly, 
found  speech  difficult.  With  some  murmured  words,  after 
a  little  pause,  they  bestowed  a  perfunctory  kiss  upon  her 
unresponsive  cheek,  and  filed  out  into  the  rain. 

Mrs.  Dabney  watched  them  put  up  their  umbrella,  and 
move  off  Strand-ward  beneath  it.  She  continued  to  look 
for  a  long  time,  in  an  aimless,  ruminating  way,  at  the  dis 
mal  prospect  revealed  by  the  window  and  the  glass  of  the 
door.  The  premature  night  was  closing  in  miserably, 
with  increasing  rain,  and  a  doleful  whistle  of  rising  wind 
round  the  corner.  At  last  she  shut  up  the  unconsidered 
cash-book,  lighted  another  gas-jet,  and  striding  to  the 
door,  rapped  sharply  on  the  glass. 

"  Bring  everything  in  !  "  she  called  to  the  boy,  and 
helped  out  his  apprehension  by  a  comprehensive  ges 
ture. 

Later,  when  he  had  completed  his  task,  and  one  of  the 
two  narrow  outlets  from  the  shop  in  front  was  satisfactorily 
blocked  with  the  wares  from  without,  and  all  the  floor 
about  reeked  with  the  grimy  drippings  of  the  oilskins, 
Mrs.  Dabney  summoned  him  to  the  desk  in  the  rear. 

' '  I  think  you  may  go  home  now, ' '  she  said  to  him,  with 
the  laconic  abruptness  to  which  he  was  so  well  accustomed. 
'  You  have  a  home,  have  n't  you  ?  " 

Remembering  the  exhaustive  enquiries  which  the  Mis 
sion  people  had  made  about  him  and  his  belongings,  as  a 


2OO  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

preliminary  to  his  getting  this  job,  he  could  not  but  be 
surprised  at  the  mistress's  question.  In  confusion  he 
nodded  assent,  and  jerked  his  finger  toward  his  cap. 

1 '  Got  a  mother  ?  * '  she  pursued. 

Again  he  nodded,  with  augmented  confidence. 

"  And  do  you  think  yourself  better  than  she  is  ?  " 

The  urchin's  dirty  and  unpleasant  face  screwed  itself 
up  in  anxious  perplexity  over  this  strange  query.  Then 
it  cleared  as  he  thought  he  grasped  the  idea,  and  the  rat- 
eyes  he  lifted  to  her  gleamed  with  the  fell  acuteness  of  the 
Dials.  "  I  sh'd  be  sorry  if  I  was  n't,"  he  answered,  in 
swift,  rasping  accents.  "  She  's  a  rare  old  boozer,  she  is  ! 
It  's  a  fair  curse  to  an  honest  boy  like  me,  to  'ave " 

' '  Go  home  ! ' '  she  bade  him,  peremptorily — and  frowned 
after  him  as  he  ducked  and  scuttled  from  the  shop. 

L,eft  to  herself,  Mrs.  Dabney  did  not  reopen  the  cash- 
book — the  wretched  day,  indeed,  had  been  practically  a 
blank  in  its  history — but  loitered  about  in  the  waning 
light  among  the  shelves  near  the  desk,  altering  the  posi 
tion  of  books  here  and  there,  and  glancing  cursorily 
through  others.  Once  or  twice  she  went  to  the  door  and 
looked  out  upon  the  rain-soaked  street.  A  tradesman's 
assistant,  opposite,  was  rolling  the  iron  shutters  down  for 
the  night.  If  business  in  hats  was  over  for  the  day,  how 
much  more  so  in  books  !  Her  shop  had  never  been  fitted 
with  shutters — for  what  reason  she  could  not  guess.  The 
opened  pages  of  numerous  volumes  were  displayed  close 
against  the  window,  but  no  one  had  ever  broken  a  pane 
to  get  at  them.  Apparently  literature  raised  no  desires  in 
the  criminal  breast.  To  close  the  shop  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  lock  and  bolt  the  door  and  turn  out  the  lights. 
At  last,  as  the  conviction  of  nightfall  forced  itself  upon 
her  from  the  drenched  darkness  outside,  she  bent  to  put 
her  hand  to  the  key,  Then,  with  a  little  start  of  surprise,. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  2OI 

she  stood  erect.  Someone  was  shutting  an  umbrella  in 
the  doorway,  preparatory  to  entering  the  shop. 

It  was  her  brother,  splashed  and  wet  to  the  knees,  but 
with  a  glowing  face,  who  pushed  his  way  in,  and  con 
fronted  her  with  a  broad  grin.  There  was  such  a  master 
ful  air  about  him,  that  when  he  jovially  threw  an  arm 
round  her  gaunt  waist,  and  gathered  her  up  against  his 
moist  shoulder,  she  surprised  herself  by  a  half-laughing 
submission. 

Her  vocabulary  was  not  rich  in  phrases  for  this  kind  of 
emergency.  "  Do  mind  what  you  're  about  !  "  she  told 
him,  flushing  not  unpleasurably. 

"  Shut  up  the  place  !  "  he  answered,  with  lordly  genial 
ity.  "  I  've  walked  all  the  way  from  the  City  in  the  rain. 
I  wanted  the  exertion — I  could  n't  have  sat  in  a  cab. 
Come  back  and  build  up  the  fire,  and  let  's  have  a  talk. 
God  !  What  things  I  've  got  to  tell  you  !  " 

".There  isn't  any  fire  down  here,"  she  said,  apologetic 
ally,  as  they  edged  their  way  through  the  restricted  alley 
to  the  rear.  '  The  old  fireplace  took  up  too  much  room. 
Sometimes,  in  very  sharp  weather,  I  have  an  oil-stove  in. 
Usually  the  gas  warms  it  enough.  You  don't  find  it  too 
cold — do  you  ? — with  your  coat  on  ?  Or  would  you  rather 
come  upstairs  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  the  cold,"  he  replied,  throwing  a  leg 
over  the  stool  before  the  desk.  "  I  can't  stay  more  'n  a 
minute  or  two.  What  do  you  think  we  've  done  today  ?  " 

Louisa  had  never  in  her  life  seen  her  brother  look  so 
well  as  he  did  now,  sprawling  triumphantly  upon  the  stool 
under  the  yellow  gas-light.  His  strong,  heavily-featured 
face  had  somehow  ceased  to  be  commonplace.  It  had 
acquired  an  individual  distinction  of  its  own.  He  looked 
up  at  her  with  a  clear,  bold  eye,  in  which,  despite  its 
gloss  of  good-humour,  she  discerned  a  new  authority. 

n,i    -  -- 


2O2  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

The  nervous  and  apprehensive  lines  had  somehow  van 
ished  from  the  countenance,  and  with  them,  oddly  enough, 
that  lethargic,  heavy  expression  which  had  been  their 
complement.  He  was  all  vigour,  readiness,  confidence, 
now.  She  deemed  him  almost  handsome,  this  curious, 
changeable  brother  of  hers,  as  he  beat  with  his  fist  in  a 
measured  way  upon  the  desk-top  to  emphasize  his  words, 
and  fastened  his  commanding  gaze  upon  her. 

11  We  took  very  nearly  twenty  thousand  pounds  to 
day,"  he  went  on.  "  This  is  the  twenty-eighth  of  Feb 
ruary.  A  fortnight  ago  today  was  the  first  settlement. 
I  was  n't  here,  but  Semple  was — and  the  working  of  it  is 
all  in  his  hands.  He  kept  as  still  as  a  mouse  that  first 
day.  They  had  to  deliver  to  us  26,000  shares,  and  they 
had  n't  got  one,  but  we  did  n't  make  any  fuss.  The 
point  was,  you  see,  not  to  let  them  dream  that  they  were 
caught  in  a  trap.  We  did  n't  even  put  the  price  up  to 
par.  They  had  to  come  to  Semple,  and  say  there  did  n't 
seem  to  be  any  shares  obtainable  just  at  the  moment,  and 
what  would  he  carry  them  over  at  ?  That  means,  to  let 
them  postpone  delivery  for  another  fortnight.  He  was  as 
smooth  as  sweet-oil  with  them,  and  agreed  to  carry  them 
over  till  today  without  any  charge  at  all.  But  today  it 
was  a  little  different.  The  price  was  up  ten  shillings 
above  par.  That  is  to  say,  Semple  arranged  with  a  job 
ber,  on  the  quiet,  d'  ye  see  ?  to  offer  thirty  shillings  for 
our  one-pound  shares.  That  offer  fixed  the  making-up 
price.  So  then,  when  they  were  still  without  shares  to 
day,  and  had  to  be  carried  over  again,  they  had  to  pay  ten 
shillings'  difference  on  each  of  twenty-six  thousand  shares, 
plus  the  difference  between  par  and  the  prices  they  'd  sold 
at.  That  makes  within  a  few  hundreds  of  ,£20,000  in 
cash,  for  one  day's  haul.  D'  ye  see  ?  " 

She  nodded  at  him,  expressively.      Through  previous 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  203 

talks  she  had  really  obtained  an  insight  into  the  opera 
tion,  and  it  interested  her  more  than  she  would  have 
cared  to  confess. 

"  Well,  then,  we  put  that  ,£20,000  in  our  pockets,"  he 
proceeded  with  a  steady  glow  in  his  eyes.  ' '  A  fortnight 
hence,  that  is  March  i4th,  we  ring  the  bell  on  them  again, 
and  they  march  up  to  the  captain's  office  and  settle  a 
second  time.  Now  what  happens  on  the  i4th  ?  A  jobber 
makes  the  price  for  Semple  again,  and  that  settles  the 
new  sum  they  have  to  pay  us  in  differences.  It  is  for  us 
to  say  what  that  price  shall  be.  We  '11  decide  on  that 
when  the  time  comes.  We  most  probably  will  just  put  it 
up  another  ten  shillings,  and  so  take  in  just  a  simple 
^13,000.  It  's  best  in  the  long  run,  I  suppose,  to  go 
slow,  with  small  rises  like  that,  in  order  not  to  frighten 
anybody.  So  Semple  says,  at  any  rate." 

"But  why  not  frighten  them?"  I^ouisa  asked.  "I 
thought  you  wanted  to  frighten  them.  You  were  full  of 
that  idea  a  while  ago. ' ' 

He  smiled  genially.  <(  I  've  learned  some  new  wrinkles 
since  then.  We  '11  frighten  'em  stiff  enough,  before  we  're 
through  with  them.  But  at  the  start  we  just  go  easy. 
If  they  got  word  that  there  was  a  '  corner, '  there  would  be 
a  dead  scare  among  the  jobbers.  They  'd  be  afraid  to  sell 
or  name  a  price  for  Rubber  Consols  unless  they  had  the 
shares  in  hand.  And  there  are  other  ways  in  which  that 
would  be  a  nuisance.  Presently,  of  course,  we  shall  liber 
ate  some  few  shares,  so  that  there  may  be  some  actual 
dealings.  Probably  a  certain  number  of  the  5,000  which 
went  to  the  general  public  will  come  into  the  market  too. 
But  of  course  you  see  that  all  such  shares  will  simply  go 
through  one  operation  before  they  come  back  to  us. 
Some  one  of  the  fourteen  men  we  are  squeezing  will  snap 
them  up  and  bring  them  straight  to  Semple,  to  get  free 


204  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

from  the  fortnightly  tax  we  are  levying  on  them.  In  that 
way  we  shall  eventually  let  out  say  half  of  these  fourteen 
*  shorts, '  or  perhaps  more  than  half. ' ' 

"  What  do  you  want  to  do  that  for  ?  "  The  sister's 
grey  eyes  had  caught  a  metallic  gleam,  as  if  from  the  talk 
about  gold.  "  Why  let  anybody  out?  Why  can't  you 
go  on  taking  their  money  for  ever  ?  " 

Thorpe  nodded  complacently.  "  Yes— that  's  what  I 
asked  too.  It  seemed  to  me  the  most  natural  thing,  when 
you  'd  got  'em  in  the  vise,  to  keep  them  there.  But  when 
you  come  to  reflect — you  can't  get  more  out  of  a  man  than 
there  is  in  him/)  If  you  press  him  too  hard,  he  can  always 
go  bankrupt — and  then  he  's  out  of  your  reach  altogether, 
and  you  lose  everything  that  you  counted  on  making  out 
of  him.  So,  after  a  certain  point,  each  one  of  the  fourteen 
men  whom  we  're  squeezing  must  be  dealt  with  on  a 
different  footing.  We  shall  have  to  watch  them  all,  and 
study  their  resources,  as  tipsters  watch  horses  in  the 
paddock. 

1  You  see,  some  of  them  can  stand  a  loss  of  a  hundred 
thousand  pounds  better  than  others  could  lose  ten  thou 
sand.  All  that  we  have  to  know.  We  can  take  it  as  a 
principle  that  none  of  them  will  go  bankrupt  and  lose  his 
place  on  the  Exchange  unless  he  is  pressed  tight  to  the 
wall.  Well,  our  business  is  to  learn  how  far  each  fellow 
is  from  the  wall  to  start  with.  Then  we  keep  track  of 
him,  one  turn  of  the  screw  after  another,  till  we  see  he  's 
got  just  enough  left  to  buy  himself  out.  Then  we  '11  let 
him  out.  See  ?  ' ' 

"  It  's  cruel,  is  n't  it  ?"  she  commented,  calmly  medi 
tative,  after  a  little  pause. 

"  Everything  in  the  City  is  cruel,"  he  assured  her  with 
a  light  tone.  "  All  speculative  business  is  cruel.  Take 
our  case,  for  example.  I  estimate  in  a  rough  way  that 


THE   MARKET-PLACE 

these  fourteen  men  will  have  to  pay  over  to  us,  in  differ 
ences  and  in  final  sales,  say  seven  hundred  thousand 
pounds — maybe  eight  hundred.  Well,  now,  not  one  of 
those  fellows  ever  earned  a  single  sovereign  of  that  money. 
They  've  taken  the  whole  of  it  from  others,  and  these  ; 
others  took  it  from  others  still,  and  so  on  almost  indefi 
nitely.  There  is  n't  a  sovereign  of  it  that  has  n't  been 
through  twenty  hands,  or  fifty  for  that  matter,  since  the 
last  man  who  had  done  some  honest  work  for  it  parted  (/ 
company  with  it.  Well — money  like  that  belongs  to 
those  who  are  in  possession  of  it,  only  so  long  as  they  are 
strong  enough  to  hold  on  to  it.  When  someone  stronger 
still  comes  along,  he  takes  it  away  from  them.  They 
don't  complain  :  they  don't  cry  and  say  it 's  cruel.  They 
know  it 's  the  rule  of  the  game.  They  accept  it— and  be 
gin  at  once  looking  out  for  a  new  set  of  fools  and  weak 
lings  to  recoup  themselves  on.  That  's  the  way  the  City 
goes." 

Thorpe  had  concluded  his  philosophical  remarks  with 
ruminative  slowness.  As  he  lapsed  into  silence  now,  he 
fell  to  studying  his  own  hands  on  the  desk-top  before  him. 
He  stretched  out  the  fingers,  curved  them  in  different  de 
grees,  then  closed  them  tight  and  turned  the  bulky  hard- 
looking  fists  round  for  inspection  in  varying  aspects. 

"  That  's  the  kind  of  hand,"  he  began  again,  thought 
fully,  "  that  breaks  the  Jew  in  the  long  run,  if  there  's 
only  grit  enough  behind  it.  I  used  to  watch  those  Jews' 
hands,  a  year  ago,  when  I  was  dining  and  wining  them. 
They  're  all  thin  and  wiry  and  full  of  veins.  Their 
fingers  are  never  still  ;  they  twist  round  and  keep  stirring 
like  a  lobster's  feelers.  But  there  aint  any  real  strength 
in  'em.  They  get  hold  of  most  of  the  things  that  are  go 
ing,  because  they  're  eternally  on  the  move.  It  's  their 
hellish  industry  and  activity  that  gives  them  such  a  pull, 


2O6  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

and  makes  most  people  afraid  of  them.  But  when  a  hand 
like  that  takes  them  by  the  throat  " — he  held  up  his  right 
band  as  he  spoke,  with  the  thick  uncouth  fingers  and 
massive  thumb  arched  menacingly  in  a  powerful  muscular 
tension — "  when  that  tightens  round  their  neck,  and  they 
feel  that  the  grip  means  business — my  God  !  what  good 
are  they  ?" 

He  laughed  contemptuously,  and  slapped  the  relaxed 
palm  on  the  desk  with  a  noise  which  made  his  sister  start. 
Apparently  the  diversion  recalled  something  to  her  mind. 

' '  There  was  a  man  in  here  asking  about  you  today, ' ' 
she  remarked,  in  a  casual  fashion.  ' '  Said  he  was  an  old 
friend  of  yours. ' ' 

"  Oh,  yes,  everybody  's  my  '  old  friend '  now,"  he  ob 
served  with  beaming  indifference.  "  I  'm  already  getting 
heaps  of  invitations  to  dinners  and  dances  and  all  that. 
One  fellow  insisted  on  booking  me  for  Kaster  for  some 
salmon  fishing  he  's  got  way  down  in  Cumberland.  I  told 
him  I  could  n't  come,  but  he  put  my  name  down  all  the 
same.  Says  his  wife  will  write  to  remind  me.  Damn  his 
wife  !  Semple  tells  me  that  when  our  squeeze  really  be 
gins  and  they  realize  the  desperate  kind  of  trap  they  're 
in,  they  '11  simply  shower  attentions  of  that  sort  on  me. 
He  says  the  social  pressure  they  can  command,  for  a 
game  of  this  kind,  is  something  tremendous.  But  I  'm 
not  to  be  taken  in  by  it  for  a  single  pennyworth,  d'  ye 
see  ?  I  dine  with  nobody  !  I  fish  and  shoot  and  go 
yachting  with  nobody  !  Julia  and  Alfred  and  our  own 
home  in  Ovington  Square — that  '11  be  good  enough  for 
me.  By  the  way — you  have  n't  been  out  to  see  us  yet. 
We  're  all  settled  now.  You  must  come  at  once — why 
not  with  me,  now  ?  " 

lyouisa  paid  no  heed  to  this  suggestion.  She  had  been 
rummaging  among:  some  loose  papers  on  the  top  of  the 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  2O? 

desk,  and  she  stepped  round  now  to  lift  the  lid  and  search 
about  for  something  inside. 

"  He  left  a  card  for  you,"  she  said,  as  she  groped 
among  the  desk's  contents.  "  I  don't  know  what  I  did 
with  it.  He  wrote  something  on  it." 

"  Oh,  damn  him,  and  his  card  too,"  Thorpe  protested 
easily.  ' '  I  don't  want  to  see  either  of  them. ' ' 

l<  He  said  he  knew  you  in  Mexico.  He  said  you  'd  had 
dealings  together.  He  seemed  to  act  as  if  you  'd  want  to 
see  him— but  I  did  n't  know.  I  did  n't  tell  him  your 
address. ' ' 

Thorpe  had  listened  to  these  apathetic  sentences  with 
out  much  interest,  but  the  sum  of  their  message  appeared 
suddenly  to  catch  his  attention.  He  sat  upright,  and 
after  a  moment's  frowning  brown  study,  looked  sharply  up 
at  his  sister. 

"  What  was  his  name  ?  "  he  asked  with  abruptness. 

"  I  don't  in  the  least  remember,"  she  made  answer, 
holding  the  desk-top  up,  but  temporarily  suspending  her 
search.  "  He  was  a  little  man,  five-and-fifty,  I  should 
think.  He  had  long  grey  hair — a  kind  of  Quaker-looking 
man.  He  said  he  saw  the  name  over  the  door,  and  he  re 
membered  your  telling  him  your  people  were  booksellers. 
He  only  got  back  here  in  England  yesterday  or  the  day 
before.  He  said  he  did  n't  know  what  you  'd  been  doing 
since  you  left  Mexico.  He  did  n't  even  know  whether 
you  were  in  England  or  not  !  " 

Thorpe  had  been  looking  with  abstracted  intentness  at 
a  set  of  green-bound  cheap  British  poets  just  at  one  side 
of  his  sister's  head.  '  *  You  must  find  that  card  !  "  he  told 
her  now,  with  a  vague  severity  in  his  voice.  * '  I  know 
the  name  well  enough,  but  I  want  to  see  what  he  's  writ 
ten.  Was  it  his  address,  do  you  remember  ?  The  name 
itself  was  Ta vender,  was  n't  it  ?  Good  God  !  Why  is  it 


208  THE  MARKET-PLAGE 

a  woman  never  knows  where  she  's  put  anything  ?  Even 
Julia  spends  hours  looking  for  button-hooks  or  corkscrews 
or  something  of  that  sort,  every  day  of  her  life  !  They  '  ve 
got  nothing  in  the  world  to  do  except  know  where  things 
are,  right  under  their  nose,  and  yet  that  's  just  what  they 
don't  know  at  all  !" 

' '  Oh,  I  have  a  good  few  other  things  to  do, ' '  she  re 
minded  him,  as  she  fumbled  again  inside  the  obscurity  of 
the  desk.  "  I  can  put  my  hand  on  any  one  of  four  thou 
sand  books  in  stock,"  she  mildly  boasted  over  her  shoul 
der,  "  and  that  's  something  you  never  learned  to  do. 
And  I  can  tell  if  a  single  book  is  missing — and  I  would  n't 
trust  any  shopman  I  ever  knew  to  do  that. ' ' 

"  Oh  of  course,  you  're  an  exception,"  he  admitted, 
under  a  sense  of  justice.  "  But  I  wish  you  'd  find  the 
card. ' ' 

"  I  know  where  it  is,"  she  suddenly  announced,  and 
forthwith  closed  the  desk.  Moving  off  into  the  remoter 
recesses  of  the  crowded  interior,  she  returned  to  the  light 
with  the  bit  of  pasteboard  in  her  hand.  "  I  'd  stuck  it 
in  the  little  mirror  over  the  washstand,"  she  explained. 

He  almost  snatched  it  from  her,  and  stood  up  the  better 
to  examine  it  under  the  gas-light.  "  Where  is  Montague 
Street  ?  "  he  asked,  with  rough  directness. 

' '  In  Bloomsbury — alongside  the  Museum.  That 's  one 
Montague  Street — I  don't  know  how  many  others  there 
may  be." 

Thorpe  had  already  taken  up  his  umbrella  and  was  but 
toning  his  coat.  ' '  Yes — Bloomsbury, ' '  he  said  hurriedly. 
' '  That  would  be  his  form.  And  you  say  he  knew  nothing 
about  my  movements  or  whereabouts — nothing  about  the 
Company,  eh  ?  "  Ke  looked  at  his  watch  as  he  spoke. 
Evidently  the  presence  of  this  stranger  had  excited  him  a 
good  deal. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  2OQ 

"  No,"  she  assured  him,  reflectively  ;  "  no,  I  'm  sure 
he  did  n't.  From  what  he  said,  he  does  n't  know  his  way 
about  London  very  well,  or  anywhere  else,  for  that  matter, 
I  should  say." 

Thorpe  nodded,  and  put  his  finger  to  his  forehead  with 
a  meaning  look.  "  No — he  's  a  shade  off  in  the  upper 
story,"  he  told  her  in  a  confidential  tone.  "  Still,  it 's 
important  that  I  should  see  him," — and  with  only  a  hasty 
hand-shake  he  bustled  out  of  the  shop. 

By  the  light  of  the  street  lamp  opposite,  she  could  see 
him  on  the  pavement,  in  the  pelting  rain,  vehemently 

signalling  with  his  umbrella  for  a  cab. 
14 


CHAPTER  XV 

1  A  A7E  've  got  a  spare  room  here,  have  n't  we?" 
V  V  Thorpe  asked  his  niece,  when  she  came  out  to 
greet  him  in  the  hall  of  their  new  home  in  Ovington 
Square.  He  spoke  with  palpable  eagerness  before  even 
unbuttoning  his  damp  great-coat,  or  putting  off  his  hat. 
"  I  mean  it  's  all  in  working  order  ready  for  use  ?  " 

"Why  yes,  uncle,"  Julia  answered,  after  a  moment's 
thought.  "  Is  someone  coming  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  he  replied,  with  a  grunt  of  relief.  He 
seemed  increasingly  pleased  with  the  project  he  had  in 
mind,  as  she  helped  him  off  with  his  things.  The  smile 
he  gave  her,  when  she  playfully  took  his  arm  to  lead  him 
into  the  adjoining  library,  was  clearly  but  a  part  of  the 
satisfied  grin  with  which  he  was  considering  some  develop 
ment  in  his  own  affairs. 

He  got  into  his  slippers  and  into  the  easy-chair  before 
the  bright  fire  and  lit  a  cigar  with  a  contented  air. 

"  Well,  my  little  girl  ?  "  he  said,  with  genial  inconse 
quence,  and  smiled  again  at  her,  where  she  stood  beside 
the  mantel. 

"  It  will  be  such  a  lark  to  play  the  hostess  to  a 
stranger  ! ' '  she  exclaimed.  ' '  When  is  he  coming  ? — I 
suppose  it  is  a  '  he,'  "  she  added,  less  buoyantly. 

"  Oh— that  fellow,"  Thorpe  said,  as  if  he  had  been 
thinking  of  something  else.  "  Well — I  can't  tell  just 
when  he  will  turn  up.  I  only  learned  he  was  in  town — 
or  in  England — a  couple  of  hours  ago.  I  have  n't  seen 

210 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  211 

him  yet  at  all.  I  drove  round  to  his  lodgings,  near  the 
British  Museum,  but  he  was  n't  there.  He  only  comes 
there  to  sleep,  but  they  told  me  he  turned  in  early — by 
nine  o'clock  or  so.  Then  I  went  round  to  a  hotel  and 
wrote  a  note  for  him,  and  took  it  back  to  his  lodgings, 
and  left  it  for  him.  I  told  him  to  pack  up  his  things  as 
soon  as  he  got  it,  and  drive  here,  and  make  this  his  home 
—for  the  time  being  at  least." 

"  Then  it  's  some  old  friend  of  yours  ?  "  said  the  girl. 
"  I  know  I  shall  like  him." 

Thorpe  laughed  somewhat  uneasily.  "  Well — yes — 
he  's  a  kind  of  a  friend  of  mine,"  he  said,  with  a  note  of 
hesitation  in  his  voice.  "  I  don't  know,  though,  that 
you  '11  think  much  of  him.  He  aint  what  you  'd  call  a 
ladies'  man." 

He  laughed  again  at  some  thought  the  words  conjured 
up.  "  He  's  a  curious,  simple  old  party,  who  'd  just  like 
a  comfortable  corner  somewhere  by  himself,  and  wouldn't 
expect  to  be  talked  to  or  entertained  at  all.  If  he  does 
come,  he  '11  keep  to  himself  pretty  well.  He  would  n't  be 
any  company  for  you.  I  mean, — for  you  or  Alfred  either. 
I  think  he  's  a  Canadian  or  West  Indian, — British  subject, 
at  all  events, — but  he  's  lived  all  his  life  in  the  West,  and 
he  would  n't  know  what  to  do  in  a  drawing-room,  or  that 
sort  of  thing.  You  'd  better  just  not  pay  any  attention  to 
him.  Pass  the  time  of  day,  of  course,  but  that  's  all." 

Julia's  alert,  small-featured  face  expressed  some  vague 
disappointment  at  what  she  heard,  but  her  words  were 
cheerful  enough.  "  Oh  of  course — whatever  he  likes 
best,"  she  said.  "  I  will  tell  Potter  to  make  everything 
ready.  I  suppose  there  's  no  chance  of  his  being  here  in 
time  for  dinner  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  shook  his  head,  and  then  lifted  his  brows  over 
some  new  perplexity.  "  I  guess  he  'd  want  to  eat  his 


212  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

meals  out,  anyway,"  he  said,  after  some  thought.  "  I 
don't  seem  to  remember  much  about  him  in  that  respect 
— of  course,  everything  was  so  different  in  camp  out  in 
Mexico — but  I  daresay  he  would  n'  t  be  much  of  an  orna 
ment  at  the  table.  However,  that  '11  be  all  right.  He  's 
as  easy  to  manage  as  a  rabbit.  If  I  told  him  to  eat  on  the 
roof,  he  'd  do  it  without  a  murmur.  You  see  it  's  this 
way,  Julia  :  he  's  a  scientific  man — a  kind  of  geologist, 
and  mining  expert  and  rubber  expert — and  chemical  ex 
pert  and  all  sort  of  things.  I  suppose  he  must  have  gone 
through  college — very  likely  he  '11  turn  out  to  have  better 
manners  than  I  was  giving  him  credit  for.  I  've  only  seen 
him  in  the  rough,  so  to  speak.  We  were  n't  at  all  inti 
mate  then, — but  we  had  dealings  together,  and  there  are 
certain  important  reasons  why  I  should  keep  close  in 
touch  with  him  while  he  's  here  in  London.  But  I  '11  try 
and  do  that  without  letting  you  be  bothered." 

"  What  an  idea  !  "  cried  Julia.  "  As  if  that  was  n't 
what  we  had  the  house  for — to  see  the  people  you  want 
to  see." 

Her  uncle  smiled  rather  ruefully,  and  looked  in  a 
rather  dubious  way  at  his  cigar.  ll  Between  you  and  me 
and  the  lamp-post,  Jule, ' '  he  said,  with  a  slow,  whimsical 
drawl,  "  there  is  n't  a  fellow  in  the  world  that  I  wanted 
to  see  less  than  I  did  him.  But  since  he  's  here — why, 
we  've  got  to  make  the  best  of  it." 

After  dinner,  Thorpe  suffered  the  youngsters  to  go  up 
to  the  drawing-room  in  the  tacit  understanding  that  he 
should  probably  not  see  them  again  that  night.  He  be 
took  himself  then  once  more  to  the  library,  as  it  was 
called — the  little,  cozy,  dark-panelled  room  off  the  hall, 
where  the  owner  of  the  house  had  left  two  locked  book 
cases,  and  where  Thorpe  himself  had  installed  a  writing- 
desk  and  a  diminutive  safe  for  his  papers.  The  chief 


THE  MARKET-PLACE  21 3 

purpose  of  the  small  apartment,  however,  was  indicated 
by  the  two  big,  round,  low-seated  easy-chairs  before  the 
hearth,  and  by  the  cigar  boxes  and  spirit-stand  and 
tumblers  visible  behind  the  glass  of  the  cabinet  against 
the  wall.  Thorpe  himself  called  the  room  his  "  snug 
gery,"  and  spent  many  hours  there  in  slippered  comfort, 
smoking  and  gazing  contentedly  into  the  fire.  Some 
times  Julia  read  to  him,  as  he  sat  thus  at  his  ease,  but 
then  he  almost  invariably  went  to  sleep. 

Now,  when  he  had  poured  out  some  whiskey  and  water 
and  lit  a  cigar,  the  lounging  chairs  somehow  did  not  at 
tract  him.  He  moved  about  aimlessly  in  the  circum 
scribed  space,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his  burly  shoulders 
rounded,  his  face  dulled  and  heavy  as  with  a  depression 
of  doubt.  The  sound  of  the  piano  upstairs  came  inter 
mittently  to  his  ears.  Often  he  ascended  to  the  drawing- 
room  to  hear  Julia  play — and  more  often  still,  with  all 
the  doors  open,  he  enjoyed  the  mellowed  murmur  of  her 
music  here  at  his  ease  in  the  big  chair.  But  tonight  he 
had  no  joy  in  the  noise.  More  than  once,  as  he  slouched 
restlessly  round  the  room,  the  notion  of  asking  her  to 
stop  suggested  itself,  but  he  forbore  to  put  it  into  action. 
Once  he  busied  himself  for  a  time  in  kneeling  before  his 
safe,  and  scrutinizing  in  detail  the  papers  in  one  of  the 
bundles  it  contained. 

At  last — it  was  after  ten  o'clock,  and  the  music  above 
had  ceased — the  welcome  sounds  of  cab- wheels  without, 
and  then  of  the  door-bell,  came  to  dispel  his  fidgeting 
suspense.  On  the  instant  he  straightened  himself,  and 
his  face  rearranged  its  expression.  He  fastened  upon  the 
door  of  the  room  the  controlled,  calm  glance  of  one  who 
is  easily  confident  about  what  is  to  happen. 

* '  Quaker-looking ' '  was  not  an  inapt  phrase  for  the 
person  whom  the  maid  ushered  into  the  room  through  this 


214  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

door.  He  was  a  small,  thin,  elderly  man,  bowed  of  figure 
and  shuffling  in  gait.  His  coat  and  large,  low-crowned 
hat,  though  worn  almost  to  shabbiness,  conveyed  an  in 
definable  sense  of  some  theological  standard,  or  pretence 
to  such  a  standard.  His  meagre  face,  too,  with  its  in 
finity  of  anxious  yet  meaningless  lines,  and  its  dim 
spectacled  eyes,  so  plainly  overtaxed  by  the  effort  to  dis 
cern  anything  clearly,  might  have  belonged  to  any  old 
village  priest  grown  childish  and  blear-eyed  in  the  soli 
tude  of  stupid  books.  Even  the  blotches  of  tell-tale  colour 
on  his  long  nose  were  not  altogether  unclerical  in  their 
suggestion.  A  poor  old  man  he  seemed,  as  he  stood 
blinking  in  the  electric  light  of  the  strange,  warm  apart 
ment — a  helpless,  worn  old  creature,  inured  through  long 
years  to  bleak  adverse  winds,  hoping  now  for  nothing 
better  in  this  world  than  present  shelter. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Thorpe,"  he  said,  after  a  mo 
ment,  with  nervous  formality.  "  This  is  unexpectedly 
kind  of  you,  sir." 

"  Why — not  at  all  !  "  said  Thorpe,  shaking  him  cor 
dially  by  the  hand.  "  What  have  we  got  houses  for,  but 
to  put  up  our  old  friends  ?  And  how  are  you,  anyway  ? 
You  've  brought  your  belongings,  have  you  ?  That  's 
right ! ' '  He  glanced  into  the  hall,  to  make  sure  that  they 
were  being  taken  upstairs,  and  then  closed  the  door.  ' '  I 
suppose  you  've  dined.  Take  off  your  hat  and  coat  ! 
Make  yourself  at  home.  That  's  it — take  the  big  chair, 
there — so  !  And  now  let  's  have  a  look  at  you.  Well, 
Tavender,  my  man,  you  have  n't  grown  any  younger. 
But  I  suppose  none  of  us  do.  And  what  '11  you  have  to 
drink  ?  I  take  plain  water  in  mine,  but  there  's  soda  if 
you  prefer  it.  And  which  shall  it  be — Irish  or  Scotch  ?  " 

Mr.  Ta vender's  countenance  revealed  the  extremity  of 
his  surprise  and  confusion  at  the  warmth  of  this  welcome. 


THE  MARKET-PLACE  21$ 

It  apparently  awed  him  as  well,  for  though  he  shrank  into 
a  corner  of  the  huge  chair,  he  painstakingly  abstained 
from  resting  his  head  against  its  back.  Uncovered,  this 
head  gained  a  certain  dignity  of  effect  from  the  fashion  in 
which  the  thin,  iron-grey  hair,  parted  in  the  middle,  fell 
away  from  the  full,  intellectual  temples,  and  curled  in 
meek  locks  upon  his  collar.  A  vague  resemblance  to  the 
type  of  Wesley — or  was  it  Froebel  ? — might  have  hinted 
itself  to  the  observer's  mind. 

Thorpe's  thoughts,  however,  were  not  upon  types. 
"  Well " — he  said,  from  the  opposite  chair,  in  his  round 
est,  heartiest  voice,  when  the  other  had  with  diffidence 
suffered  himself  to  be  served,  and  had  deferentially  lighted 
on  one  side  the  big  cigar  pressed  upon  him — ' '  Well — and 
how  's  the  world  been  using  you  ?  " 

"  Not  very  handsomely,  Mr.  Thorpe,"  the  other  re 
sponded,  in  a  hushed,  constrained  tone. 

' '  Oh,  chuck  the  Misters  !  ' '  Thorpe  bade  him.  ' '  Are  n't 
we  old  pals,  man  ?  You  're  plain  Tavender,  and  I  'm 
plain  Thorpe. ' ' 

"  You  're  very  kind,"  murmured  Tavender,  still 
abashed.  For  some  minutes  he  continued  to  reply  dole 
fully,  and  with  a  kind  of  shamefaced  reluctance,  to  the 
questions  piled  upon  him.  He  was  in  evil  luck  :  nothing 
had  gone  well  with  him  ;  it  had  been  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  that  he  had  scraped  together  enough  to  get  back 
to  London  on  the  chance  of  obtaining  some  expert  com 
mission  ;  practically  he  possessed  nothing  in  the  world 
beyond  the  clothes  on  his  back,  and  the  contents  of  two 
old  carpet-bags — these  admissions,  by  degrees,  were 
wormed  from  him. 

"  But  have  you  parted  with  the  concession,  then,  that 
you  bought  from  me  ?  ' '  Thorpe  suddenly  asked  him. 
"  Help  yourself  to  some  more  whiskey  !  " 


2l6  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Tavender  sighed  as  he  tipped  the  decanter.  "  It  is  n't 
any  good,"  he  answered,  sadly.  "  The  Government  re 
pudiates  it — that  is,  the  Central  Government  at  Mexico. 
Of  course,  I  never  blamed  you.  I  bought  it  with  my 
eyes  open,  and  you  sold  it  in  perfect  good  faith.  I  never 
doubted  that  at  all.  But  it  's  not  worth  the  paper  it  's 
written  on — that  's  certain.  It  's  that  that  busted  me — 
that,  and  some  other  things. ' ' 

"  Well— well  !  "  said  Thorpe,  blankly.  His  astonish 
ment  was  obviously  genuine,  and  for  a  little  it  kept  him 
silent,  while  he  pondered  the  novel  aspects  of  the  situation 
thus  disclosed.  Then  his  eyes  brightened,  as  a  new  path 
outlined  itself. 

"  I  suppose  you  've  got  the  papers? — the  concession 
and  my  transfer  to  you  and  all  that  ?  "  he  asked,  casually. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  Ta  vender.  He  added,  with  a  gleam 
of  returning  self-command — "  That  's  all  I  have  got." 

"  Let 's  see — what  was  it  you  paid  me  ? — Three  thou 
sand  eight  hundred  pounds,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

Tavender  made  a  calculation  in  mental  arithmetic. 
11  Yes,  something  like  that.  Just  under  nineteen  thou 
sand  dollars,"  he  said. 

"  Well,"  remarked  Thorpe,  with  slow  emphasis,  "  I 
won't  allow  you  to  suffer  that  way  by  me.  I  '11  buy  it 
back  from  you  at  the  same  price  you  paid  for  it." 

Tavender,  beginning  to  tremble,  jerked  himself  up 
right  in  his  chair,  and  stared  through  his  spectacles  at  his 
astounding  host.  "You  say"— he  gasped— "you  say 
you  '11  buy  it  back  !  " 

' '  Certainly, ' '  said  Thorpe.     ' '  That 's  what  I  said. ' ' 

"  I — I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  !  "  the  other  faltered 
with  increasing  agitation.  "  No — you  can't  mean  it.  It 
is  n't  common  sense  !  " 

"  It  's  common  decency,"  replied  the  big  man,  in  his 


THE   MARKET-PLACE 

most  commanding  manner.  "  It  's  life  and  death  to  you 
— and  it  does  n't  matter  a  flea-bite  to  me.  So,  since  you 
came  to  grief  through  me,  why  should  n't  I  do  the  fair 
thing,  and  put  you  back  on  your  legs  again  ?  ' ' 

Tavender,  staring  now  at  those  shrunken  legs  of  his, 
breathed  heavily.  The  thing  overwhelmed  him.  Once 
or  twice  he  lifted  his  head  and  essayed  to  speak,  but  no 
speech  came  to  his  thin  lips.  He  moistened  them  eventu 
ally  with  a  long  deliberate  pull  at  his  glass. 

"  This  much  ought  to  be  understood,  however,"  Thorpe 
resumed,  reflecting  upon  his  words  as  he  went  along. 
"  If  I  'm  to  buy  back  a  dead  horse,  like  that,  it  's  only 
reasonable  that  there  should  be  conditions.  I  suppose 
you  've  seen  by  this  time  that  even  if  this  concession  of 
ours  was  recognized  by  the  Government  there  would  n't 
be  any  money  in  it  to  speak  of.  I  did  n't  realize  that  two 
years  ago,  any  more  than  you  did,  but  it  's  plain  enough 
now.  The  trade  has  proved  it.  A  property  of  rubber 
trees  has  no  real  value — so  long  as  there  's  a  wilderness 
of  rubber  trees  all  round  that  's  everybody's  property. 
How  can  a  man  pay  even  the  interest  on  his  purchase 
money,  supposing  he  's  bought  a  rubber  plantation,  when 
he  has  to  compete  with  people  who  've  paid  no  purchase 
money  at  all,  but  just  get  out  as  much  as  they  like  from 
the  free  forest  ?  You  must  know  that  that  is  so. ' ' 

Tavender  nodded  eloquently.  "  Oh  yes,  I  know  that 
is  so.  You  can  prove  it  by  me. ' ' 

Thorpe  grinned  a  little.     "  As  it  happens,  that  aint* 
what  I  need  to  have  you  prove,"  he  said,  dryly.     "  Now  .J 
we  know  that  a  rubber  property  is  no  good — but  London; 
does  n't  know  it.     Kverybody  here  thinks  that  it  's  a* 
great  business  to  own  rubber  trees.     Why,  man  alive,  do 
you  know  " — the  audacity  of  the  example  it  had  occurred 
to  him  to  cite  brought  a  gratified  twinkle  to  his  eyes  as 


218  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

he  went  on — "  do  you  know  that  a  man  here  last  year 
actually  sold  a  rubber  plantation  for  four  hundred  thou 
sand  pounds — two  millions  of  dollars  !  Not  in  cash,  of 
course,  but  in  shares  that  he  could  do  something  with — 
and  before  he  's  done  with  it,  I  'm  told,  he  's  going  to 
make  twice  that  amount  of  money  out  of  it.  That  '11 
show  you  what  I/ondon  is  like." 

"  Yes — I  suppose  they  do  those  things,"  remarked 
Tavender,  vaguely. 

ic  Well — my  point  is  that  perhaps  I  can  do  something 
or  other  with  this  concession  of  yours  here.  I  may  even 
be  able  to  get  my  money  back  on  it.  At  any  rate  I  '11 
take  my  chances  on  it — so  that  at  least  you  shan't  lose 
anything  by  it.  Of  course,  if  you  'd  rather  try  and  put  it 
on  the  market  yourself,  why  go  ahead  ! ' ' 

There  was  a  wistful  pathos  in  the  way  Tavender  shook 
his  head.  "  Big  money  does  n't  mean  anything  to  me 
any  more,"  he  said,  wearily.  "  I  'm  too  old  and  I  'm  too 
tired.  Why — four — five — yes,  half  a  dozen  times  I  've 
had  enough  money  to  last  me  comfortably  all  my  life — 
and  every  time  I  've  used  it  as  bait  to  catch  bigger  money 
with,  and  lost  it  all.  I  don't  do  that  any  more  !  I  've 
got  something  the  matter  with  me  internally  that  takes 
the  nerve  all  out  of  me.  The  doctors  don't  agree  about 
it,  but  whatever  its  name  is  I  've  got  it  for  keeps.  Prob 
ably  I  shan't  live  very  long  " — Thorpe  recalled  that  the 
old  man  had  always  taken  a  gloomy  view  of  his  health 
after  the  third  glass — "  and  if  you  want  to  pay  me  the 
nineteen  thousand  dollars,  or  whatever  it  is,  why  I  shall 
say  '  God  bless  you, '  and  be  more  than  contented. ' ' 

"  Oh,  there  's  something  more  to  it  than  that,"  observed 
Thorpe,  with  an  added  element  of  business-like  briskness 
in  his  tone.  "  If  I  let  you  out  in  this  way — something, 
of  course,  you  could  never  have  dreamed  would  happen — 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  219 

you  must  do  some  things  for  me.  I  should  want  you,  for 
example,  to  go  back  to  Mexico  at  once.  Of  course,  I  'd 
pay  your  expenses  out.  Or  say,  I  'd  give  you  a  round 
four  thousand  pounds  to  cover  that  and  some  other  things 
too.  You  would  n't  object  to  that,  would  you  ?  " 

The  man  who,  two  hours  before,  had  confronted  ex 
istence  with  the  change  of  his  last  five-pound  note  in  his 
pocket,  did  not  hesitate  now.  ' '  Oh  no,  that  would  be  all 
right,"  with  reviving  animation,  he  declared.  He  helped 
himself  again  from  the  cut-glass  decanter.  * '  What  would 
you  want  me  to  do  there  ?  ' ' 

* '  Oh,  a  report  on  the  concession  for  a  starter, ' '  Thorpe 
answered,  with  careful  indifference.  "  I  suppose  they  still 
know  your  name  as  an  authority.  I  could  make  that  all 
right  anyway.  But  one  thing  I  ought  to  speak  of — it 
might  be  rather  important — I  would  n't  like  to  have  you 
mention  to  anybody  that  the  concession  has  at  any  time 
been  yours.  That  might  tend  to  weaken  the  value  of 
your  report,  don't  you  see  ?  L,et  it  be  supposed  that  the 
concession  has  been  my  property  from  the  start.  You 
catch  my  point,  don't  you  ?  There  never  was  any  such 
thing  as  a  transfer  of  it  to  you.  It 's  always  been  mine  ! ' ' 

Tavender  gave  his  benefactor  a  purblind  sort  of  wink. 
"  Always  belonged  to  you  ?  Why  of  course  it  did,"  he 
said  cheerfully. 

The  other  breathed  a  cautious  prolonged  sigh  of  relief. 
'You  'd  better  light  a  fresh  one,  had  n't  you?"  he 
asked,  observing  with  a  kind  of  contemptuous  tolerance 
the  old  man's  efforts  to  ignite  a  cigar  which  had  more 
than  once  unrolled  like  a  carpenter's  shaving  in  his  un 
accustomed  fingers,  and  was  now  shapelessly  defiant  of 
both  draught  and  suction.  Tavender  laughed  to  himself 
silently  as  he  took  a  new  cigar,  and  puffed  at  the  match 
held  by  his  companion.  The  air  of  innocence  and  long- 


22O  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

suffering  meekness  was  falling  rapidly  away  from  him. 
He  put  his  shabby  boots  out  confidently  to  the  fender  and 
made  gestures  with  his  glass  as  he  talked. 

"  My  mistake,"  he  declared,  in  insistent  tones,  "  was 
in  not  turning  down  science  thirty  years  ago  and  going  in 
bodily  for  business.  Then  I  should  have  made  my  pik-  as 
you  seem  to  have  done.  But  I  tried  to  do  something  of 
both.  Half  the  year  I  was  assaying  crushings,  or  run 
ning  a  level,  or  analyzing  sugars,  for  a  salary,  and  the 
other  half  I  was  trying  to  do  a  gamble  with  that  salary  on 
the  strength  of  what  I  'd  learned.  You  can't  ring  the 
bell  that  way.  You  've  got  to  be  either  a  pig  or  a  pup. 
You  can't  do  both.  Now,  for  instance,  if  I  'd  come  to 
L,ondon  when  you  did,  and  brought  my  money  with  me 
instead  of  buying  your  concession  with  it " 

"  Why,  what  good  do  you  suppose  you  would  have 
done  ?  ' '  Thorpe  interrupted  him  with  good  -  natured 
brusqueness.  "  You  'd  have  had  it  taken  from  you  in 
a  fortnight  !  Why,  man,  do  you  know  what  London  is  ? 
You  'd  have  had  no  more  chance  here  than  a  naked  nigger 
in  a  swamp-full  of  alligators. ' ' 

"  You  seem  to  have  hit  it  off,"  the  other  objected. 
"  This  is  as  fine  a  house  as  I  was  ever  in." 

"  With  me  it  's  different,"  Thorpe  replied,  carelessly. 
"  I  have  the  talent  for  money-making.  I  'm  a  man  in 
armour.  The  'gators  can't  bite  me,  nor  yet  the  rattle 
snakes.  ' ' 

"  Yes — men  are  made  up  differently,"  Tavender  as 
sented,  with  philosophical  gravity.  Then  he  lurched 
gently  in  the  over-large  chair,  and  fixed  an  intent  gaze 
upon  his  host.  "  What  did  you  make  your  money  in  ?  " 
he  demanded,  not  with  entire  distinctness  of  enunciation. 
"  It  was  n't  rubber,  was  it  ?  " 

Thorpe  shook  his  head.     "  There  's  no  money  in  rub- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  221 

her.     I  'm  entirely  in  finance — on  the  Stock  Exchange — 
4ealing  in  differences,"  he  replied,  with  a  serious  face. 

The  explanation  seemed  wholly  acceptable  to  Tavender. 
He  niused  upon  it  placidly  for  a  time,  with  his  reverend 
head  pillowed  askew  against  the  corner  of  the  chair. 
Then  he  let  his  cigar  drop,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

The  master  of  the  house  bent  forward,  and  noiselessly 
helped  himself  to  another  glass  of  whiskey  and  water. 
Then,  sinking  back  again,  he  eyed  his  odd  guest  medi 
tatively  as  he  sipped  the  drink.  He  said  to  himself  that 
in  all  the  miraculous  run  of  luck  which  the  year  had 
brought  him,  this  was  the  most  extraordinary  manifesta 
tion  of  the  lot.  It  had  been  so  easy  to  ignore  the  existence 
of  this  tiresome  and  fatuous  old  man,  so  long  as  he  was  in 
remote  Mexico,  that  he  had  practically  forgotten  him. 
But  he  should  not  soon  forget  the  frightened  shock  with 
which  he  had  learned  of  his  presence  in  London,  that 
afternoon.  For  a  minute  or  two,  there  in  his  sister's 
book- shop,  it  had  seemed  as  if  he  were  falling  through  the 
air — as  if  the  substantial  earth  had  crumbled  away  from 
under  him.  But  then  his  nerve  had  returned  to  him,  hisj 
resourceful  brain  had  reasserted  itself.  With  ready? 
shrewdness  he  had  gone  out,  and  met  the  emergency,  and 
made  it  the  servant  of  his  own  purposes. 

He  could  be  glad  now,  unreservedly  glad,  that  Tavender 
had  come  to  London,  that  things  had  turned  out  as  they 
had.     In  truth,  he  stood  now  for  the  first  time  on  solid 
ground.     When  he  thought  of  it,  now,  the  risk  he  had 
been  running  all  these  months  gave  him  a  little  sinking 
of  the  heart.     Upon  reflection,  the  performance  of  having  j 
sold  the  same  property  first  to  Tavender  in  Mexico  and  \ 
then  to  the  Rubber  Consols  Company  in  London  might  jj 
be   subject  to  injurious   comment,   or  worse.      The  fact 
that  it  was  not  a  real  property  to  begin  with  had  no  place 


222  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

in  his  thoughts.  It  was  a  concession — and  concessions 
were  immemorially  worth  what  they  would  fetch.  But 
the  other  thing  might  have  been  so  awkward — and  now 
it  was  all  right  ! 

For  an  hour  and  more,  till  the  fire  burnt  itself  out  and 
the  guest's  snoring  became  too  active  a  nuisance,  Thorpe 
sat  lost  in  this  congratulatory  reverie.  Then  he  rose,  and 
sharply  shaking  Tavender  into  a  semblance  of  conscious 
ness,  led  him  upstairs  and  put  him  to  bed. 

Three  days  later  he  personally  saw  Tavender  off  at 
Waterloo  station  by  the  steamer-train,  en  route  for  South 
ampton  and  New  York.  The  old  man  was  in  childlike 
good  spirits,  looking  more  ecclesiastical  than  ever  in  the 
new  clothes  he  had  been  enabled  to  buy.  He  visibly 
purred  with  content  whenever  his  dim  eyes  caught  sight 
of  the  new  valise  and  steamer  trunk,  which  belonged  to 
him,  on  the  busy  platform. 

"  You  've  been  very  kind  to  me,  Thorpe,"  he  said  more 
than  once,  as  they  stood  together  beside  the  open  door  of 
the  compartment.  "  I  was  never  so  hospitably  treated 
before  in  my  life.  Your  attention  to  me  has  been  wonder 
ful.  I  call  you  a  true  friend." 

"  Oh,  that  's  all  right  !  Glad  to  do  it,"  replied  the 
other,  lightly.  In  truth  he  had  not  let  Tavender  stray 
once  out  of  his  sight  during  those  three  days.  He  had 
dragged  him  tirelessly  about  London,  showing  him  the 
sights  from  South  Kensington  Museum  to  the  Tower, 
shopping  with  him,  resting  in  old  taverns  with  him,  break 
fasting,  lunching,  and  dining  with  him — in  the  indefatig 
able  resolution  that  he  should  strike  up  no  dangerous 
gossiping .  acquaintance  with  strangers.  The  task  had 
been  tiresome  in  the  extreme — but  it  had  been  very  well 
worth  while. 

"  One  thing  I  'm  rattier  sorry  about,"  Tavender  re- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  223 

marked,  in  apologetic  parenthesis — "  I  ought  to  have 
gone  down  and  seen  that  brother-in-law  of  mine  in  Kent. 
He  's  been  very  good  to  me,  and  I  'm  not  treating  him 
very  well.  I  wrote  to  tell  him  I  was  coming — but  since 
then  I  have  n't  had  a  minute  to  myself.  However,  I  can 
write  to  him  and  explain  how  it  happened.  And  probably 
I  '11  be  over  again  sometime." 

11  Why,  of  course,"  said  Thorpe,  absently.  The  allu 
sion  to  the  brother-in-law  in  Kent  had  escaped  hisjiptice, 
so  intent  was  he  upon  a  new_congeries  of  projects  taking 
vague  shape  in  his  mind. 

' '  Think  of  yourself  as  my  man  out  there, ' '  he  said  now, 
slowly,  following  the  clue  of  his  thoughts.  ' '  There  may 
be  big  things  to  do.  Write  to  me  as  often  as  you  can. 
Tell  me  everything  that  's  going  on.  Money  will  be  no 
object  to  me — you  can  have  as  much  as  you  like — if  things 
turn  up  out  there  that  are  worth  taking  up.  But  mind 
you  say  nothing  about  me — or  any  connection  you  've 
ever  had  with  me.  You  '11  get  a  letter  from  the  Secretary 
of  a  Company  and  the  Chairman  asking  for  a  report  on  a 
certain  property,  and  naming  a  fee.  You  simply  make  a 
good  report — on  its  merits.  You  say  nothing  about  any 
thing  else — about  me,  or  the  history  of  the  concession,  or 
its  validity,  or  anything.  I  must  n't  be  alluded  to  in  any 
way.  You  quite  understand  that  ?  ' ' 

"  Trust  me  !  "  said  the  old  man,  and  wrung  his  bene 
factor's  hand. 

It  was  indeed  with  a  trustful  eye  that  Thorpe  watched 
the  train  draw  out  of  the  station. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  week  following  the  August  Bank  Holiday  is  very 
rarely  indeed  a  busy  or  anxious  time  in  the  City. 
In  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  it  serves  as  the  easy 
going  prelude — with  but  casual  and  inattentive  visits 
eastward,  and  with  only  the  most  careless  glances  through 
the  financial  papers — to  the  halcyon  period  of  the  real 
vacation.  Men  come  to  the  City  during  this  week,  it  is 
true,  but  their  thoughts  are  elsewhere — on  the  moors,  on 
the  blue  sea,  on  the  glacier,  or  the  fiord,  or  the  pleasant 
German  pine  forests. 

To  the  great  mass  of  City  people,  this  August  in  ques 
tion  began  in  a  normal  enough  fashion.  To  one  little 
group  of  operators,  however,  and  to  the  widening  circle 
of  brokers,  bankers,  and  other  men  of  affairs  whose  inter 
ests  were  more  or  less  involved  with  those  of  this  group, 
it  was  a  season  of  keen  perturbation.  A  combat  of  an 
extraordinary  character  was  going  on — a  combat  which 
threatened  to  develop  into  a  massacre.  Even  to  the 
operators  who,  unhappily  for  themselves,  were  principals 
in  this  fight,  it  was  a  struggle  in  the  dark.  They  knew 
little  about  it,  beyond  the  grimly-patent  fact  that  they 
were  battling  for  their  very  lives.  The  outer  ring  of  their 
friends  and  supporters  and  dependents  knew  still  less, 
though  their  rage  and  fears  were  perhaps  greater.  The 
"  press  "  seemed  to  know  nothing  at  all.  This  unnatural 
silence  of  the  City's  mouthpieces,  usually  so  resoundingly 
clamorous  upon  the  one  side  and  the  other  when  a  duel  is 

224 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  22'$ 

in  progress,  gave  a  sinister  aspect  to  the  thing.  The  papers  / 
had  been  gagged  and  blindfolded  for  the  occasion.    This  in; 
itself  was  of  baleful  significance.     It  was  not  a  duel  which! 
they  had  been  bribed  to  ignore.     It  was  an  assassination.! 

Outwardly  there  was  nothing  to  see,  save  the  unofficial, 
bald  statement  that  on  August  ist,  the  latest  of  twelve 
fortnightly  settlements  in  this  stock,  Rubber  Consols  had 
been  bid  for,  and  carried  over,  at  ^15  for  one-pound 
shares.  The  information  concerned  the  public  at  large 
not  at  all.  Nobody  knew  of  any  friend  or  neighbour  who 
was  fortunate  enough  to  possess  some  of  these  shares. 
Readers  here  and  there,  noting  the  figures,  must  have 
said  to  themselves  that  certain  lucky  people  were  coining 
money,  but  very  little  happened  to  be  printed  as  to  the 
identity  of  these  people.  Stray  notes  were  beginning  to 
appear  in  the  personal  columns  of  the  afternoon  papers  , 
about  a  * '  Rubber  King  ' '  of  the  name  of  Thorpe,  but  the  / 
modern  exploitation  of  the  world's  four  corners  makes  so 
many  "  kings  "  that  the  name  had  not,  as  yet,  familiar 
ized  itself  to  the  popular  eye. 

City  men,  who  hear  more  than  they  read,  knew  in  a  gen 
eral  way  about  this  "  Rubber  King."  He  was  an  outsider 
who  had  come  in,  and  was  obviously  filling  his  pockets  ; 
but  it  was  a  comforting  rule  that  outsiders  who  did  this 
always  got  their  pockets  emptied  for  them  again  in  the 
long  run.  There  seemed  nothing  about  Thorpe  to  suggest 
that  he  would  prove  an  exception  to  the  rule.  He  was 
investing  his  winnings  with  great  freedom,  so  the  City 
understood,  and  his  office  was  besieged  daily  by  promoters 
and  touts.  They  could  clean  out  his  strong-box  faster  than 
the  profits  of  his  Rubber  corner  could  fill  it.  To  know 
such  a  man,  however,  could  not  but  be  useful,  and  they  made 
furtive  notes  of  his  number  in  Austin  Friars  on  their  cuffs, 
after  conversation  had  drifted  from  him  to  other  topics. 


226  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

As  to  the  Rubber  corner  itself,  the  Stock  Exchange  as 
a  whole  was  apathetic.  When  some  of  the  sufferers  ven 
tured  cautious  hints  about  the  possibility  of  official  inter 
vention  on  their  behalf,  they  were  laughed  at  by  those 
who  did  not  turn  away  in  cold  silence.  Of  the  fourteen 
men  who  had  originally  been  caught  in  the  net  drawn 
tight  by  Thorpe  and  Semple,  all  the  conspicuous  ones  be 
longed  to  the  class  of  ' '  wreckers, ' '  a  class  which  does  not 
endear  itself  to  Capel  Court. 

Both  Rostocker  and  Aronson,  who,  it  was  said,  were 
worst  hit,  were  men  of  great  wealth,  but  they  had  sys 
tematically  amassed  these  fortunes  by  strangling  in  their 
cradles  weak  enterprises,  and  by  undermining  and  toppling 
over  other  enterprises  which  would  not  have  been  weak 
if  they  had  been  given  a  legitimate  chance  to  live.  Their 
system  was  legal  enough,  in  the  eyes  alike  of  the  law  and 
of  the  Stock  Exchange  rules.  They  had  an  undoubted 
right  to  mark  out  their  prey  and  pursue  it,  and  bring  it 
down,  and  feed  to  the  bone  upon  it.  But  the  exercise  of 
this  right  did  not  make  them  beloved  by  the  begetters  and 
sponsors  of  their  victims.  When  word  first  went  round, 
on  the  last  day  of  February,  that  a  lamb  had  unexpectedly 
turned  upon  these  two  practised  and  confident  wolves, 
and  had  torn  an  ear  from  each  of  them,  and  driven  them 
pell-mell  into  a  "corner,"  it  was  received  on  all  sides 
with  a  gratified  smile. 

Later,  by  fortnightly  stages,  the  story  grew  at  once 
more  tragic  and  more  satisfactory.  Not  only  Rostocker 
and  Aronson,  but  a  dozen  others  were  in  the  cul  de  sac 
guarded  by  this  surprising  and  bloody-minded  lamb.  Most 
of  the  names  were  well-known  as  those  of '  *  wreckers. ' ' 
In  this  category  belonged  Blaustein,  Ganz,  Rothfoere, 
lyewis,  Ascher,  and  Mendel,  and  if  Harding,  Carpenter, 
and  Vesey  could  not  be  so  confidently  classified,  at  least 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  227 

their  misfortune  excited  no  particular  sympathy.  Two 
other  names  mentioned,  those  of  Norfell  and  Pinney, 
were  practically  unknown. 

There  was  some  surprise,  however,  at  the  statement 
that  the  old  and  respected  and  extremely  conservative 
firm  of  Fromentin  Bros,  was  entangled  in  the  thing. 
Egyptian  bonds,  minor  Levantine  loans,  discounts  in  the 
Arabian  and  Persian  trades — these  had  been  specialties 
of  the  Fromentins  for  many  years.  Who  could  have  ex 
pected  to  find  them  caught  among  the  * '  shorts ' '  in  Mexi 
can  rubber  ?  It  was  Mexico,  was  n't  it,  that  these  Rubber 
Consols  purported  to  be  connected  with  ? 

Thorpe's  Company,  upon  its  commercial  merits,  had  not 
been  considered  at  all  by  the  gentlemen  of  the  Stock  Ex 
change,  at  the  time  of  its  flotation.  Men  vaguely  and 
with  difficulty  recalled  the  fact  of  its  prospectus,  when  the 
* '  corner ' '  in  its  shares  was  first  talked  about.  They  looked 
it  up  in  their  lists  and  files,  later  on,  but  its  terms  said 
nothing  to  them.  Nobody  discussed  the  value  of  the  as 
sets  owned  by  this  Company,  or  the  probability  of  its 
paying  a  dividend — even  when  the  price  bid  for  its  shares 
was  making  the  most  sensational  upward  leaps.  How 
Thorpe  stood  with  his  shareholders,  or  whether  he  had 
any  genuine  shareholders  behind  him  at  all,  was  seen  by 
the  keen  eyes  of  Capel  Court  to  be  beside  the  question. 
Very  likely  it  was  a  queer  affair,  if  the  truth  were  known 
— but  at  least  it  had  substance  enough  in  it  to  be  giving 
the  ' '  wreckers  ' '  a  lively  time. 

By  the  end  of  July  it  was  understood  that  the  fight  was 
better  worth  watching  than  anything  that  had  been  seen 
in  a  long  time.  The  only  trouble  was  that  there  was  so 
little  to  see.  The  papers  said  nothing.  The  sufferers 
were  the  reverse  of  garrulous.  The  little  red  Scotchman, 
Semple,  who  was  the  visible  avenging  sword  of  the  ' '  cor- 


228  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

ner,"  was  more  imperturbably  silent  than  anybody  else. 
His  fellow-members  in  the  ' '  House  ' '  watched  him  now, 
however,  with  a  new  respect.  They  discovered  unsuspected 
elements  of  power  in  his  thin,  tight  mouth,  in  the  direct, 
cold  glances  of  his  brown-grey  eyes,  in  the  very  way  he 
carried  his  head  and  wore  his  hat.  He  came  to  be  pointed 
out,  and  nodded  about  behind  his  back,  more  than  any 
one  else  in  the  "  House,"  and  important  men  sought  his 
acquaintance,  with  an  awkward  show  of  civility,  who 
were  notorious  for  their  rude  exclusiveness. 

It  might  be,  of  course,  that  his  "  corner  "  would  break 
under  him  at  any  fortnightly  settlement,  but  already  he 
had  carried  it  much  further  than  such  things  often  went, 
and  the  planning  of  the  coup  had  been  beyond  doubt 
Napoleonic. 

Had  this  small  sandy  Scot  planned  it,  or  was  he  merely 
the  weapon  in  Thorpe's  hand  ?  Both  views  had  their 
supporters  on  the  Exchange,  but  after  the  wrench  of 
August  ist,  when  with  an  abrupt  eighty-shilling  rise  the 
price  of  Rubber  Consols  stood  at  ^15,  and  it  was  to  be  com 
puted  that  Semple  had  received  on  that  single  day  nearly 
^75,000  in  differences  and  "  backwardation,"  a  story  was 
set  afloat  which  gave  Thorpe  the  undivided  credit  of  the 
invention.  It  was  related  as  coming  from  his  own  lips  that 
he  had  schemed  it  all  out  to  be  revenged  upon  a  group 
of  Jewish  operators,  against  whom  he  had  a  grievance. 
In  confirmation  of  this  tale,  it  was  pointed  out  that,  of 
the  seven  men  still  held  pinned  in  the  fatal  "  corner,"  six 
were  Jews — and  this  did,  upon  first  glance,  look  signifi 
cant.  But  then  it  was  objected,  upon  reflection,  that 
Blaustein  and  Ascher  had  both  been  permitted  to  make 
their  escape,  and  this  hardly  justified  the  theory  of  an 
implacable  anti-Semitic  vendetta.  The  objection  seemed 
reasonable,  but  it  was  met  in  turn  by  the  point  that 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  229 

Blaustein  and  Ascher  had  been  bled  white,  as  Bismarck's 
phrase  went,  before  they  were  released,  whereas  the  five 
Christians  had  been  liberated  with  relatively  moderate 
fines.  Upon  the  whole,  a  certain  odour  of  the  Judenhetze 
clung  thereafter  about  the  ' '  corner  ' '  in  Rubber  Consols. 

On  an  afternoon  of  the  following  week,  Mr.  Stormont 
Thorpe  was  alone  in  the  Board  Room  of  the  offices  in 
Austin  Friars.  He  had  risen  from  the  great  roller-topped 
desk  over  between  the  windows,  and  walked  now  with  a 
lethargic,  tired  step  to  and  fro  before  the  empty  fireplace, 
yawning  more  than  once,  and  stretching  out  his  arms  in 
the  supreme  gesture  of  fatigue.  After  a  dozen  listless 
rounds,  something  occurred  to  him.  He  moved  with  a 
certain  directness  of  purpose  to  the  cabinet  in  the  corner, 
unlocked  it,  and  poured  out  for  himself  a  tumbler  of 
brandy  and  soda.  He  drank  it  without  a  pause,  then 
turned  again,  and  began  pacing  up  and  down  as  before, 
his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  his  head  bent  in  thought. 

The  intervening  six  months  had  effected  visible  changes 
in  the  outer  man.     One  noted  most  readily  that  the  face  / 
had   grown   fuller  in  its  lower  parts,   and  was  far  less/ 
browned  than  formerly.     The  large,  heavy  countenance, ' 
with  its  square  jaws  masked  now  under  increased  flesh, 
its  beginnings  of  a  double-chin,  and  its  slightly  flabby 
effect  of  pallor,  was  no  longer  lacking  in  individual  dis 
tinction.     It  was  palpably  the  visage  of  a  dictator.     The  j 
moustache  had  been  cut  down  to  military  brevity,  and! 
the  line  of  mouth  below  it  was  eloquent  of  rough  power. 
The  steady  grey  eyes,  seemingly  smaller  yet  more  con 
spicuous  than  before,  revealed  in  their  glance  new  ele 
ments  of  secretiveness,  of  strategy  supported  by  abundant 
and  confident  personal  force. 

The  man  himself  seemed  scarcely  to  have  grown  stouter. 
He  held  himself  more  compactly,  as  it  were  ;  seemed  more 


230  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

the  master  of  all  his  physical  expressions.  He  was  dressed 
like  a  magnate  who  was  also  a  person  of  taste.  There 
was  a  flower  in  the  lapel  of  his  well-shaped  frock-coat,  and 
the  rustle  of  his  starched  and  spotless  white  waistcoat 
murmured  pleasantly  of  refined  toilets. 

"  The  Marquis  of  Chaldon — and  a  gentleman,  with 
him." 

The  announcement,  from  a  clerk  who  had  noiselessly 
opened  the  door,  imposed  itself  with  decorum  upon 
Thorpe's  reverie. 

' '  Who  is  the  gentleman  with  him  ?  ' '  Thorpe  began 
austerely  to  ask,  after  an  instant's  hesitation.  But  this 
briefest  of  delays  had  brought  the  callers  into  plain  view 
behind  the  clerk,  and  with  a  slight  gesture  the  master 
assented  to  their  entrance. 

This  large  apartment  was  no  longer  called  the  Board 
Room  by  anybody.  By  tacit  processes,  it  had  become 
Mr.  Thorpe's  room.  Not  even  the  titular  Chairman  of 
the  Company,  the  renowned  and  eminent  Lord  Chaldon, 
ex-Ambassador  and  ex- Viceroy,  entered  this  chamber 
now  with  any  assumption  of  proprietorship  in  it.  No 
hint  of  a  recollection  that  there  were  such  things  as  the 
Company  and  the  Board,  or  that  he  was  nominally  the 
head  of  both,  expressed  itself  in  his  Lordship's  demeanour 
as  he  advanced,  his  hand  a  little  extended. 

The  noble  Chairman  was  white  of  beard  and  hair,  and 
extremely  courteous  of  manner — a  small,  carefully -clad, 
gracious  old  gentleman,  whose  mild  pink  countenance 
had,  with  years  of  anxiety  about  ways  and  means,  dis 
posed  itself  in  lines  which  produced  a  chronic  expression 
of  solicitude.  A  nervous  affection  of  the  eyelids  lent  to 
this  look,  at  intervals,  a  beseeching  quality  which  embar 
rassed  the  beholder.  All  men  had  liked  him,  and  spoken 
well  of  him  throughout  his  long  and  hard-worked  career. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  231 

Thorpe  was  very  fond  of  him  indeed,  and  put  a  respectful 
cordiality  into  his  grasp  of  the  proffered  hand.  Then  he 
looked,  with  a  certain  thinly-veiled  bluntness  of  enquiry, 
past  the  Marquis  to  his  companion. 

"  You  were  very  kind  to  give  me  the  appointment," 
said  Lord  Chaldon,  with  a  little  purring  gloss  of  affability 
upon  the  earnestness  of  his  tone.  "  I  wish  very  much  to 
introduce  to  you  my  friend,  my  old  friend  I  may  say, 
Monsieur  Alexandre  Fromentin.  We  slept  together 
under  the  same  tent,  in  the  Persian  country  beyond  Bag 
dad — oh,  it  must  have  been  quite  forty  years  ago.  We 
were  youngsters  looking  to  win  our  first  spurs  then — I  in 
my  line,  he  in  his.  And  often  since  we  have  renewed  that 
old  friendship — at  many  different  places — India,  and  Con 
stantinople,  and  Egypt.  I  wish  heartily  to  commend 
him  to  your — your  kindness." 

Thorpe  had  perfunctorily  shaken  hands  with  the 
stranger — a  tall,  slender,  sharp-faced,  clean-shaven,  nar 
row-shouldered  man,  who  by  these  accounts  of  his  years 
ought  not  to  have  such  excessively  black  hair.  He  bowed 
in  a  foreign  fashion,  and  uttered  some  words  which  Thorpe, 
though  he  recognized  them  as  English  in  intent,  failed  to 
follow.  The  voice  was  that  of  an  elderly  man,  and  at  a 
second  glance  there  were  plenty  of  proofs  that  he  might 
have  been  older  than  the  Marquis,  out  there  in  Persia, 
forty  years  ago.  But  Thorpe  did  not  like  old  men  who 
dyed  their  hair,  and  he  offered  his  visitors  chairs,  drawn 
up  from  the  table  toward  his  desk,  with  a  certain  reserve 
of  manner.  Seating  himself  in  the  revolving  chair  at  the 
desk  itself,  he  put  the  tips  of  his  fingers  together,  and 
looked  this  gentleman  with  the  Continental  name  and  ex 
perience  in  the  face. 

' '  Is  there  something  you  wish  me  to  do  ?  "  he  asked, 
passively  facilitating  the  opening  of  conversation. 


232  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  Ah,  my  God  !  '  Something '  !  "—repeated  the  other, 
with  a  fluttering  gesture  of  his  hands  over  his  thin,  pointed 
knees — "  everything,  Mr.  Thorpe  !  " 

"  That  's  a  tolerably  large  order,  is  n't  it  ?  "  Thorpe 
asked,  calmly,  moving  a  slow,  inscrutable  glance  from 
one  to  the  other  of  his  callers. 

' '  I  could  ask  for  nothing  that  would  be  a  greater  per 
sonal  favour — and  kindness  " — Lord  Chaldon  interposed. 
His  tone  bore  the  stress  of  sincerity. 

"  That  means  a  great  deal  to  me,  as  you  know,  my 
Lord,"  replied  Thorpe,  "  but  I  don't  in  the  least  under 
stand — what  is  it  that  your  friend  wants  ?  " 

"  Only  that  I  shall  not  be  buried  in  a  bankrupt's  grave," 
the  suppliant  answered,  with  a  kind  of  embittered  eager 
ness  of  utterance.  "  That  I  shall  not  see  disgraced  the 
honoured  name  that  my  father  and  his  father  bequeathed 
to  my  care  ! ' ' 

Thorpe's  large,  composed  countenance  betrayed  a  cer 
tain  perplexity.  "  There  must  be  a  mistake,"  he  ob 
served.  "  I  don't  even  know  this  name  of  yours.  I 
never  heard  it  before." 

The  other's  mobile  face  twisted  itself  in  a  grimace  of 
incredulity.  He  had  a  conspicuously  wide  mouth,  and 
its  trick  of  sidelong  extension  at  this  moment  was  very 
unpleasant.  "  Ah,  Herr  Je !  He  never  heard  it,"  he 
ejaculated,  turning  nervously  to  the  Marquis.  "  Would 
to  the  good  God  you  never  had  ! "  he  told  Thorpe,  with 
suppressed  excitement. 

Lord  Chaldon,  his  own  voice  shaken  a  little,  interposed 
with  an  explanation.  "  My  friend  is  the  head — the  re 
spected  head — of  the  firm  of  Fromentin  Brothers.  I  think 
you  hare — have  dealings  with  them." 

Thorpe,  after  a  furtive  instant  of  bewilderment,  opened 
his  mouth.  "  Oh  !  I  see,"  he  said.  "  I  know  what  you 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  233 

mean  now.  With  the  French  pronunciation,  I  did  n't 
recognize  the  name.  I  've  always  heard  it  called  *  Fro- 
men'-tin  '  here  in  London.  Oh,  yes,  of  course — Fro- 
men'tin  Brothers." 

His  lips  shut  tight  again  at  this.  The  listeners  had 
caught  no  helpful  clue  from  the  tone  of  his  words.  They 
exchanged  a  glance,  and  then  M.  Fromentin  spoke. 

"  Mr.  Thorpe,"  he  began,  slowly,  with  an  obvious  effort 
at  self- repression.  "It  is  a  very  simple  story.  Our 
house  is  an  old  one.  My  father's  grandfather  organized 
the  finance  of  the  commissariat  of  General  Bonaparte  in 
Kgypt.  He  created  the  small  beginnings  of  the  carpet 
and  rug  importation  from  Asia  Minor.  His  son,  and  in 
turn  his  son,  followed  him.  They  became  bankers  as  well 
as  importers.  They  helped  very  greatly  to  develop  the 
trade  of  the  Levant.  They  were  not  avaricious  men,  or 
usurers.  It  is  not  in  our  blood.  Your  Chairman,  Lord 
Chaldon,  who  honours  me  so  highly  by  calling  me  his 
friend — he  will  assure  you  that  we  have  a  good  name  in 
the  Bast.  Our  banks  have  befriended  the  people,  and 
never  oppressed  or  injured  them.  For  that  reason — I  will 
say  perhaps  for  that  reason — we  have  never  become  a  very 
rich  house.  It  is  possible  to  name  bankers  who  have 
made  large  fortunes  out  of  Egypt.  It  was  different  with 
us.  Lord  Chaldon  will  tell  you  that  of  our  own  free  will 
— my  two  brothers  and  I — of  our  own  choice  we  consented 
to  lose  a  fifth  of  all  our  possessions,  rather  than  coin  into 
gold  by  force  the  tears  and  blood  of  the  wretched 
fellaheen." 

'  Yes — I  have  never  known  a  more  honourable  or  hu 
mane  action,"  put  in  the  Marquis,  fervently. 

"  And  then  my  brothers  die — Polydor,  who  lived  mostly 
at  Smyrna,  and  whose  estate  was  withdrawn  from  the 
business  by  his  widow,  and  Augustin,  who  lived  here  in, 


234  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

London  after  1870,  and  died — it  is  now  six  years  ago. 
He  left  a  son,  Robert,  who  is  my  nephew,  and  my  partner. 
He  is  now  of  an  age — perhaps  thirty  years.  He  was  a 
small  child  when  he  came  to  London — he  has  become 
more  English  than  the  English  themselves.  His  activity 
and  industry  are  very  great ;  he  forms  plans  of  such  mag 
nitude  and  numbers  that  they  would  compel  his  grand 
father  to  turn  in  his  coffin.  I  am  in  indifferent  health.  I 
live  much  at  Homburg  and  Marienbad  and  at  Cairo. 
Practically  speaking,  I  have  retired  from  business.  There 
remain  branches  of  our  house — in  several  places — but  the 
London  house  has  become  the  centre  of  all  things — and 
Robert  has  become  the  London  house.  This  I  make 
plain  to  your  mind,  do  I,  Mr.  Thorpe  ?  " 

The  other,  with  his  chin  sunk  within  the  collar  of  his 
white  waistcoat,  and  scrutinizing  the  narrator  with  a 
steadfast  though  impassive  glance,  made  the  faintest  pos 
sible  nod  of  assent. 

' '  I  had  great  confidence  in  Robert, ' '  the  old  man  went 
on.  His  eyes  were  dimming  with  tears,  and  his  voice 
quavered  uncertainly.  "  His  plans  seemed  wise,  even  if 
they  risked  more  than  formerly.  The  conditions  of  busi 
ness  are  wholly  altered  since  my  youth — and  it  was  best, 
I  thought,  to  make  Robert  free  to  act  under  these  con 
ditions,  which  he  understood  much  better  than  I  could 
pretend  to  do.  Thus  it  was  that  when  he  said  it  was 
necessary  for  Fromentin  Brothers  to  belong  to  the  Stock 
Exchange,  I  did  not  object.  He  was  active  and  bold  and 
clever,  and  he  was  in  the  thick  of  the  fight.  Therefore 
he  should  be  the  judge  in  all  things.  And  that  is  our 
ruin.  In  the  time  of  the  South  African  excitement,  he 
won  a  great  deal  of  money.  Then  he  lost  it  all  and  more. 
Then  gambling  began,  and  his  fortunes  went,  now  up, 
now  down,  but  always,  as  his  books  show  to  me  now — 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  235 

sinking  a  little  on  the  average.  He  grew  more  adventur 
ous — more  careless.  He  put  many  small  counters  upon 
different  numbers  on  the  table.  You  know  what  I  mean  ? 
And  in  an  accursed  moment,  because  other  gamblers  were 
doing  the  same,  he  sold  two  thousand  of  your  shares, 
without  having  them  in  his  hands.  Voila  !  He  wishes 
now  to  put  a  bullet  through  his  brain.  He  proposes  that 
as  the  fitting  end  of  Fromentin  Freres." 

Thorpe,  his  chin  on  his  breast,  continued  to  regard  the 
melancholy  figure  opposite  with  a  moody  eye.  It  seemed 
a  long  minute  before  he  broke  the  tense  silence  by  a  sigh 
of  discomfort.  * '  I  do  not  discuss  these  things  with  any 
body,"  he  said  then,  coldly.  "  If  I  had  known  who  you 
were,  I  don't  think  you  'd  have  got  in." 

The  Marquis  of  Chaldon  intuitively  straightened  him 
self  in  his  chair,  and  turned  toward  the  speaker  a  glance 
of  distressed  surprise. 

"  Or  no — I  beg  your  pardon,"  Thorpe  hastened  to  add, 
upon  the  instant  hint  of  this  look — "  that  does  n't  convey 
my  meaning.  Of  course,  our  Chairman  brings  whom  he 
pleases.  His  friends — as  a  matter  of  course — are  our 
friends.  What  I  should  have  said  was  that  if  this  had 
been  mentioned  beforehand  to  me,  I  should  have  ex 
plained  that  it  was  n't  possible  to  discuss  that  particular 
business." 

"  But — pardon  me" — said  Lord  Chaldon,  in  a  quiet, 
very  gentle,  yet  insistent  voice,  which  seemed  now  to  re 
call  to  its  listeners  the  fact  that  sovereigns  and  chancellors 
had  in  their  day  had  attentive  ears  for  its  tones — <{  pardon 
me,  but  why  should  it  not  be  possible  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  frowned  doubtfully,  and  shifted  his  position  in 
his  chair.  "  What  could  I  say,  if  it  were  discussed  ?  "  he 
made  vague  retort.  "  I  'in  merely  one  of  the  Directors. 
You  are  our  Chairman,  but  you  see  he  has  n't  found  it  of 


236  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

any  use  to  discuss  it  with  you.  There  are  hard  and  fast 
rules  about  these  things.  They  run  their  natural  course. 
You  are  not  a  business  man,  my  Lord ' ' 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  may  be  called  a  '  business  man,'  "  inter 
posed  the  nobleman,  suavely.  "  They  would  tell  you  so 
in  Calcutta,  I  think,  and  in  Cairo  too.  When  one  con 
siders  it,  I  have  transacted  a  great  deal  of  business — on 
the  behalf  of  other  people.  And  if  you  will  permit  me — I 
do  not  impute  indirection,  of  course — but  your  remark 
seems  to  require  a  footnote.  It  is  true  that  I  am  Chair 
man  of  the  Board  on  which  you  are  a  Director — but  it  is 
not  quite  the  whole  truth.  I  as  Chairman  know  abso 
lutely  nothing  about  this  matter.  As  I  understand  the 
situation,  it  is  not  in  your  capacity  as  a  Director  that  you 
know  anything  about  it  either.  Yet ' ' 

He  paused,  as  if  suddenly  conscious  of  some  impropriety 
in  this  domestic  frankness  before  a  third  party,  and  Thorpe 
pounced  through  his  well-mannered  hesitation  with  the 
swiftness  of  a  bird  of  prey. 

"  Let  me  suggest,"  he  said  roundly,  lifting  his  head 
and  poising  a  hand  to  hold  attention,  while  he  thought 
upon  what  it  was  he  should  suggest — "  this  is  what  I 
would  say.  It  seems  rather  irregular,  does  n'  t  it  ?  to  de 
bate  the  matter  in  the  presence  of  an  outsider.  You  see 
it  yourself.  That  is  partly  what  I  meant.  Now  I  have 
met  Mr.  Fromentin,"  he  gave  the  name  its  English  vowels 
with  an  obstinate  emphasis,  "  and  I  have  heard  his  state 
ment.  You  have  heard  it  too.  If  he  wishes  to  lay  more 
facts  before  us,  why,  well  and  good.  But  then  I  would 
suggest  that  he  leave  the  matter  in  our  hands,  to  discuss 
and  look  into  between  ourselves.  That  seems  to  you  the 
proper  course,  does  n't  it,  Lord  Chaldon  ?  " 

The  French  banker  had  been  studying  with  strained 
acuteness  the  big  lymphatic  mask  of  the  Director,  with 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  237 

sundry  sharp  glances  aside  at  the  Chairman.  The  nervous 
changes  on  his  alert,  meagre  old  face  showed  how  intently 
he  followed  every  phase  of  their  talk.  A  certain  sardonic 
perception  of  evil  in  the  air  curled  on  his  lip  when  he  saw 
the  Marquis  accede  with  a  bow  and  wave  of  the  hand  to 
Thorpe's  proposition.  Then  he  made  his  bow  in  turn, 
and  put  the  best  face  possible  upon  the  matter. 

"  Naturally  I  consult  your  convenience — and  the  pro 
prieties,"  he  said,  with  an  effect  of  proud  humility. 
'  There  are  but  a  few  other  facts  to  submit.  My  nephew 
has  already  paid,  in  differences  upon  those  accursed  two 
thousand  shares,  a  sum  of  nearly  ,£30,000.  I  have  the 
figures  in  my  pocket — but  they  are  fixed  in  my  head  as 
well.  Twenty- eight  thousand  five  hundred,  those  differ 
ences  already  amount  to,  not  to  speak  of  interest.  At  the 
last  settlement,  August  ist,  the  price  per  share  was  ,£15. 
That  would  make  ,£30,000  more,  if  we  bought  now — or 
a  total  of  practically  ,£60,000.  Eh  bien  !  I  beg  for  the 
privilege  of  being  allowed  to  buy  these  shares  now.  It  is 
an  unpleasant  confession  to  make,  but  the  firm  of  Fro- 
mentin  Freres  will  be  made  very  poor  by  this  loss  of 
,£60,000.  It  was  not  always  so,  but  it  is  so  now.  My 
nephew  Robert  has  brought  it  into  that  condition.  You 
see  my  shame  at  this  admission.  With  all  my  own  means, 
and  with  his  sister's  marriage  portion,  we  can  make  up 
this  sum  of  ,£30,000,  and  still  enable  the  firm  to  remain 
in  existence.  I  have  gone  over  the  books  very  painstak 
ingly,  since  I  arrived  in  London.  It  can  be  kept  afloat, 
and  it  can  be  brought  back  to  safe  and  moderately  profit 
able  courses — if  nothing  worse  happens.  With  another 
six  weeks  like  the  last,  this  will  not  be  at  all  possible. 
We  shall  have  the  cup  of  dishonour  thrust  between  our 
teeth.  That  will  be  the  end  of  everything. " 

M.  Fromentin  finished  in  tremulous,  grave  tones.     After 


238  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

looking  with  blurred  eyes  for  a  moment  into  Thorpe's 
face,  he  bowed  his  head,  and  softly  swayed  the  knees  upon 
which  his  thin,  dark  hands  maintained  their  clutch.  Not 
even  the  revelation  of  hair  quite  white  at  the  roots,  un 
duly  widening  the  track  of  parting  on  the  top  of  his  dyed 
head,  could  rob  this  movement  of  its  mournful  dignity. 

Thorpe,  after  a  moment's  pause,  took  a  pencil  and  paper 
from  the  desk,  and  made  a  calculation.  He  bit  his  lips 
and  frowned  at  the  sight  of  these  figures,  and  set  down 
some  others,  which  seemed  to  please  him  no  more.  Then, 
with  a  sudden  gesture  as  of  impatience,  he  rose  to  his  feet. 

11  How  much  is  that  sister's  marriage  portion  you  spoke 
of  ?  "  he  asked,  rather  brusquely. 

The  French  gentleman  had  also  risen.  He  looked  with 
an  air  of  astonishment  at  his  questioner,  and  then  hardened 
his  face.  "  I  apologize  for  mentioning  it,"  he  said,  with 
brevity.  "  One  does  not  speak  of  family  affairs." 

* c  I  asked  you  how  much  it  was, ' '  pursued  Thorpe,  in  a 
masterful  tone.  "  A  man  does  n't  want  to  rob  a  girl  of 
her  marriage  portion." 

"  I  think  I  must  not  answer  you,"  the  other  replied, 
hesitatingly.  "  It  was  the  fault  of  my  emotion  to  intro 
duce  the  subject.  Pray  leave  the  young  lady  out  of 
account. ' ' 

"  Then  I  've  nothing  more  to  say,"  Thorpe  declared, 
and  seated  himself  again  with  superfluous  energy.  He 
scowled  for  a  little  at  the  disorder  of  his  desk,  and  then 
flung  forth  an  angry  explanation.  "  If  you  evade  fair 
questions  like  that,  how  can  you  expect  that  I  will  go 
out  of  my  way  to  help  you  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh,  permit  me,  Mr.  Thorpe  " — the  Marquis  intervened 
soothingly — "  I  think  you  misapprehend.  My  friend,  I 
am  sure,  wished  to  evade  nothing.  He  had  the  idea  that 
he  was  at  fault  in — in  alluding  to  a  purely  domestic  mat- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  239 

ter  as— as  a— what  shall  I  say  ?— as  a  plea  for  your  con 
sideration."  He  turned  to  the  old  banker.  '  You  will 
not  refuse  to  mention  the  sum  to  me,  will  you,  my 
friend?" 

M.  Fromentin  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "It  is  ten 
thousand  pounds,"  he  replied,  almost  curtly. 

Thorpe  was  seemingly  mollified.  * '  Very  well,  then, ' ' 
he  said.  "  I  will  sell  you  2,000  shares  at  ten  pounds." 

The  others  exchanged  a  wondering  look. 

"  Monsieur,"  the  banker  stammered — "  I  see  your 
meaning.  You  will  forgive  me — it  is  very  well  meant 
indeed  by  you — but  it  was  not  my  proposition.  The 
market-price  is  fifteen  pounds — and  we  were  prepared  to 
pay  it. ' ' 

Thorpe  laughed  in  a  peremptory,  gusty  way.  "  But 
you  can't  pay  more  than  I  ask  !  "  he  told  him,  with  rough 
geniality.  ' '  Come,  if  I  let  you  and  your  nephew  in  out 
of  the  cold,  what  kind  of  men-folk  would  you  be  to  insist 
that  your  niece  should  be  left  outside  ?  As  I  said,  I  don't 
want  her  money.  I  don't  want  any  woman's  money.  If 
I  'm  going  to  be  nice  to  the  rest  of  the  family,  what 's  the 
objection  to  my  being  nice  to  her  ?  " 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  Frenchman,  after  an  instant's  re 
flection,  "  I  offer  none.  I  did  not  at  the  moment  perceive 
the  spirit  of  your  words,  but  I  recognize  now  that  it  was 
delicacy  itself.  I  tender  you  the  most  profound  thanks — 
for  all  the  family." 

After  some  further  conversation  the  elder  Fromentin 
took  his  departure.  Lord  Chaldon  apparently  proposed 
to  accompany  him,  but  Thorpe  begged  him  to  remain, 
and  he  put  aside  his  hat  once  more  and  resumed  his  seat. 

Thorpe  walked  about  a  little,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  in  a  restless  way.  "  If  it  is  n't  unpleasant  to 
you,  I  think  I  '11  light  a  cigaV  he  said  suddenly,  and 


240  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

moved  over  to  the  cabinet.  He  poured  out  a  drink  of 
neat  brandy,  as  well,  and  furtively  swallowed  it.  Then 
he  came  back,  preceded  by  a  cloud  of  smoke. 

"  It  went  terribly  against  the  grain,"  he  said,  with  a 
rueful  laugh.  "I'd  sworn  to  let  no  Jew  off  with  an  inch 
of  hide  left  on  him — and  here  three  of  them  have  been 
wheedled  out  of  my  grip  already." 

"Jews?"  exclaimed  the  Marquis,  much  puzzled. 
"  Did  you — did  you  think  Fromentin  was  a  Jew  ?  God 
bless  me  !  he  's  no  more  one  than  I  am  !  Why,  not  even 
so  much,  for  there  is  a  Herschell  in  my  pedigree.  Why, 
dear  man,  they  were  Crusaders  !  " 

Thorpe  smiled  somewhat  sheepishly.  "  I  never  noticed 
much,"  he  said.  "  It  was  a  foreign-looking  name.  I 
took  it  for  granted." 

Lord  Chaldon  bent  his  brows  a  little.  "  Yes-s"— he 
murmured,  meditatively.  "  I  've  heard  it  mentioned  that 
your  enterprise  was  suspected  of  an  anti-Semitic  twist. 
Do  you  mind  my  talking  a  little  with  you  about  that  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  the  other  answered  with  languid 
acquiescence,  as  he  seated  himself. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

LORD  CHAlyDON'S  instructive  little  monologue  on 
the  subject  of  the  Hebrew  in  finance  afforded 
Thorpe  a  certain  pleasure,  which  was  in  its  character, 
perhaps,  more  social  than  intellectual. 

It  was  both  a  nattering  and  striking  experience  to  have 
so  eminent  a  man  at  the  side  of  one's  desk,  revealing  for 
one's  guidance  the  secrets  of  sovereigns  and  cabinets. 
Great  names  were  mentioned  in  the  course  of  this  disser 
tation — mentioned  with  the  authoritative  ease  of  one  who 
dined  with  princes  and  prime  ministers — and  Thorpe  felt 
that  he  shared  in  the  distinction  of  this  familiarity  with 
the  august.  He  was  in  the  position  of  paying  a  salary  to 
this  courtly  old  nobleman  and  statesman,  who  could  tell 
him  of  his  owrn  intimate  knowledge  how  Emperors  con 
versed  with  one  another  ;  how  the  Pope  fidgeted  in  his 
ornate-carved  chair  when  the  visitor  talked  on  unwelcome 
topics  ;  how  a  Queen  and  an  opera-bouffe  dancer  waged 
an  obscure  and  envenomed  battle  for  the  possession  of  a 
counting-house  strong  box,  and  in  the  outcome  a  nation 
was  armed  with  inferior  old  muskets  instead  of  modern 
weapons,  and  the  girl  got  the  difference  expressed  in 
black  pearls. 

These  reminiscences  seemed  to  alter  the  atmosphere,  and 
even  the  appearance,  of  the  Board  Room.  It  was  almost 
as  if  the  apartment  itself  was  becoming  historic,  like  those 
chambers  they  pointed  out  to  the  tourist  wherein  crowned 
heads  had  slept.  The  manner  of  the  Marquis  lent  itself 

16 

241 


242  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

charmingly  to  this  illusion.  He  spoke  in  a  facile,  mel 
lifluous  voice,  and  as  fluently  as  if  he  had  been  at  work 
for  a  long  time  preparing  a  dissertation  on  this  subject, 
instead  of  taking  it  up  now  by  chance.  In  his  tone,  in 
his  gestures,  in  the  sustained  friendliness  of  his  facial  ex 
pressions,  there  was  a  palpable  desire  to  please  his  auditor 
— and  Thorpe  gave  more  heed  to  this  than  to  the  thread 
of  the  discourse.  The  facts  that  he  heard  now  about  the 
Jewish  masters  of  international  finance  were  doubtless 
surprising  and  suggestive  to  a  degree,  but  somehow  they 
failed  to  stimulate  his  imagination.  Lord  Chaldon's 
statesmanlike  discussion  of  the  uses  to  which  they  put 
this  vast  power  of  theirs  ;  his  conviction  that  on  the  whole 
they  were  beneficent ;  his  dread  of  the  consequences  of 
any  organized  attempt  to  take  this  power  away  from  them, 
and  put  it  into  other  and  less  capable  hands — no  doubt  it 
was  all  very  clever  and  wise,  but  Thorpe  did  not  care 
for  it. 

At  the  end  he  nodded,  and,  with  a  lumbering  move 
ment,  altered  his  position  in  his  chair.  The  fixed  idea  of 
despoiling  Rostocker,  Aronson,  Ganz,  Rothfoere,  Lewis, 
and  Mendel  of  their  last  sixpence  had  been  in  no  wise 
affected  by  this  entertaining  homily.  There  appeared  to 
be  no  need  of  pretending  that  it  had  been.  If  he  knew 
anything  of  men  and  their  manners,  his  titled  friend 
would  not  object  to  a  change  of  topic. 

<(Lord  Chaldon,"  he  said  abruptly,  "we  've  talked 
enough  about  general  matters.  While  you  're  here,  we 
might  as  well  go  into  the  subject  of  the  Company.  Our 
annual  meeting  is  pretty  nearly  due — but  I  think  it  would 
be  better  to  have  it  postponed.  You  see,  this  extraordi 
nary  development  of  dealing  in  our  shares  on  the  Stock 
Exchange  has  occupied  my  entire  attention.  There  has 
been  no  time  for  arranging  the  machinery  of  operations 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  243 

on  our  property  in  Mexico.  It 's  still  there ;  it 's  all  right. 
But  for  the  time  being,  the  operations  in  London  are  so 
much  more  important.  We  should  have  nothing  to  tell 
our  shareholders,  if  we  brought  them  together,  except 
that  their  one-pound  shares  are  worth  fifteen  pounds,  and 
they  know  that  already." 

The  Marquis  had  listened  with  a  shrewdly  attentive  eye 
upon  the  speaker's  face.  The  nervous  affection  of  his 
eyelids  gave  him  now  a  minute  of  blinking  leisure  in 
which  to  frame  his  comment.  "  I  have  not  heard  that 
my  shares  are  worth  fifteen  pounds,"  he  said  then,  with  a 
direct,  meaning  little  smile. 

"  No,"  Thorpe  laughed,  leaning  comfortably  back  in 
his  chair.  "  That  's  what  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about. 
You  see,  when  the  Company  was  started,  it  was  impossible 
to  foresee  that  this  dealing  in  our  ordinary  shares  would 
swamp  everything  else.  If  things  had  taken  their  usual 
course,  and  we  had  paid  our  attention  to  Mexico  instead 
of  to  the  London  Stock  Exchange,  my  deferred  vendor's 
shares,  two  thousand  of  which  you  hold,  would  by  this 
time  be  worth  a  good  bit.  As  it  is,  unfortunately,  they 
are  outside  of  the  deal.  They  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  movement  of  the  ordinary  shares.  But  of  course  you 
understand  all  that." 

Lord  Chaldon  assented  by  an  eloquent  nod,  at  once  re 
signed  and  hopeful. 

;<  Well — that  is  contrary  to  all  my  expectations — and 
intentions,"  Thorpe  resumed.  "  I  don't  want  you  to 
suffer  by  this  unlooked-for  change  in  the  shape  of  things. 
You  hold  two  thousand  shares — only  by  accident  they  're 
the  wrong  kind  of  shares.  Very  well  :  I  '11  make  them 
the  right  kind  of  shares.  I  '11  have  a  transfer  sent  to  you 
tomorrow,  so  that  you  can  return  those  vendor's  shares 
to  me,  and  in  exchange  for  them  I  '11  give  you  two  thou- 


244  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

sand  fully-paid  ordinary  shares.  You  can  sell  these  at 
once,  if  you  like,  or  you  can  hold  them  on  over  one  more 
settlement,  whichever  you  please.'' 

"This  is  very  munificent,"  remarked  Lord  Chaldon, 
after  an  instant's  self-communion.  His  tone  was  ex 
tremely  gracious,  but  he  displayed  none  of  the  enthusi 
astic  excitement  which  Thorpe  perceived  now  that  he  had 
looked  for.  The  equanimity  of  Marquises,  who  were  also 
ex- Ambassadors,  was  evidently  a  deeper- rooted  affair  than 
he  had  supposed.  This  elderly  and  urbane  diplomat  took 
a  gift  of  thirty  thousand  pounds  as  he  might  have  accepted 
a  superior  cigar. 

A  brief  pause  ensued,  and  was  ended  by  another  remark 
from  the  nobleman  :  "  I  thought  for  the  moment  of  asking 
your  advice — on  this  question  of  selling,"  he  continued. 
' '  But  it  will  be  put  more  appropriately,  perhaps,  in  this 
way  :  Let  me  leave  it  entirely  in  your  hands.  Whatever 
you  do  will  be  right.  I  know  so  little  of  these  things — 
and  you  know  so  much." 

Thorpe  put  out  his  lips  a  trifle,  and  looked  away  for  an 
instant  in  frowning  abstraction.  "  If  it  were  put  in  that 
way— I  think  I  should  sell,"  he  said.  "It's all  right  for 
me  to  take  long  chances — it  's  my  game — but  there  's  no 
reason  why  you  should  risk  things.  But  let  me  put  it  in 
still  another  way,"  he  added,  with  the  passing  gleam  of  a 
new  thought  over  the  dull  surface  of  his  eye.  "  What  do 
you  say  to  our  making  the  transaction  strictly  between 
ourselves  ?  Here  are  shares  to  bearer,  in  the  safe  there. 
I  say  that  two  thousand  of  them  are  yours  :  that  makes 
them  yours.  I  give  you  my  cheque  for  thirty  thousand 
pounds — here,  now,  if  you  like — and  that  makes  them 
mine  again.  The  business  is  finished  and  done  with — 
inside  this  room.  Neither  of  us  is  to  say  anything  about 
it  to  a  soul.  Does  that  meet  your  views  ?  ' ' 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  245 

The  diplomat  pondered  the  proposition — again  with  a 
lengthened  perturbation  of  the  eyelids.  "  It  would  be 
possible  to  suggest  a  variety  of  objections,  if  one  were  of 
a  sophistical  turn  of  mind,"  he  said  at  last,  smilingly  re 
flective.  "  Yet  I  see  no  really  insuperable  obstacle  in  the 
path."  He  thought  upon  it  further,  and  went  on  with 
an  enquiring  upward  glance  directed  suddenly  at  Thorpe  : 
1 '  Is  there  likely  to  be  any  very  unpleasant  hubbub  in  the 
press — when  it  is  known  that  the  annual  meeting  has  been 
postponed  ? ' ' 

Thorpe  shook  his  head  with  confidence.  "  No — you 
need  have  no  fear  of  that.  The  press  is  all  right.  It  's 
the  talk  of  the  City,  I  'm  told — the  way  I  've  managed 
the  press.  It  is  n't  often  that  a  man  has  all  three  of  the 
papers  walking  the  same  chalk-line." 

The  Marquis  considered  these  remarks  with  a  puzzled 
air.  Then  he  smiled  faintly.  "  I  'm  afraid  we  're  speak 
ing  of  different  things, ' '  he  suggested.  ' '  Apparently  you 
refer  to  the  financial  papers.  I  had  scarcely  given  them 
a  thought.  It  does  not  seem  to  me  that  I  should  mind 
particularly  what  they  said  about  me — but  I  should  care  a 
great  deal  about  the  other  press — the  great  public  press. ' ' 

' '  Oh,  what  do  they  know  about  these  things  ?  ' '  said 
Thorpe,  lightly.  "  So  far  as  I  can  see,  they  don't  know 
about  anything,  unless  it  gets  into  the  police  court,  or  the 
divorce  court,  or  a  court  of  some  kind.  They  're  the  fun 
niest  sort  of  papers  I  ever  saw.  Seems  as  if  they  did  n't 
think  anything  was  safe  to  be  printed  until  it  had  been 
sworn  to.  Why  anybody  should  be  afraid  of  them  is  more 
than  I  can  see." 

"  Nevertheless,"  persisted  his  Lordship,  blandly,  "  I 
should  greatly  dislike  any  public  discussion  of  our  Com 
pany's  affairs.  I  hope  it  is  quite  clear  that  that  can  be 
avoided." 


246  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"Absolutely!"  Thorpe  told  him,  with  reassuring 
energy.  "  Why,  discussions  don't  make  themselves. 
Somebody  has  to  kick  before  anything  gets  discussed. 
And  who  is  to  kick  here  ?  The  public  who  hold  the 
shares  are  not  likely  to  complain  because  they  've  gone 
up  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  per  cent.  And  who 
else  has  any  interest  in  what  the  Company,  as  a  Company, 
does?" 

*'  Ah,  that  is  a  question  which  has  occurred  to  me," 
said  I^ord  Chaldon,  "  and  I  shall  be  glad  if  it  is  already 
answered.  The  only  people  likely  to  '  kick/  as  you  put 
it  so  simply,  would  be,  I  take  it,  Directors  and  other 
officers  of  the  Company  who  find  themselves  holding  a 
class  of  shares  which  does  not  participate  in  the  present 
rise.  I  speak  with  some  confidence — because  I  was  in  that 
position  myself  until  a  few  minutes  ago — and  I  don't  mind 
confessing  that  I  had  brought  myself  to  contemplate  the 
contingency  of  ultimately  being  compelled  to — to  '  kick  ' 
a  little.  Of  course,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  events  have 
put  me  in  a  diametrically  different  frame  of  mind.  If  I 
came  prepared — I  won't  say  to  curse,  but  to — to  criticize — 
I  certainly  remain  to  bless.  But  you  see  my  point.  I  of 
course  do  not  know  what  you  have  done  as  regards  the 
other  members  of  the  Board. ' ' 

"  I  don't  care  about  them,"  said  Thorpe,  carelessly. 
' '  You  are  the  one  that  I  wished  to  bring  in  on  the  ground- 
floor.  The  others  don't  matter.  Of  course,  I  shall  do 
something  for  them  ;  they  shan't  be  allowed  to  make 
trouble — even  supposing  that  it  would  be  in  their  power 
to  make  trouble,  which  is  n't  the  case.  But  it  won't  be 
done  by  any  means  on  the  same  scale  that — ' '  he  paused 
abruptly,  and  the  two  men  tacitly  completed  his  sentence 
in  the  glance  they  exchanged. 

The  Marquis  of  Chaldon  rose,  and  took  up  his  hat  and 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  247 

stick.  "  If  you  will  post  it  to  me — in  a  registered  letter — 
my  town  house — please, ' '  he  remarked,  with  a  charmingly 
delicate  hesitation  over  the  phrases.  Then  he  put  out  his 
hand  :  "  I  need  not  say  how  fully  I  appreciate  your  great 
kindness  to  my  old  friend  Fromentin.  It  was  a  noble 
action — one  I  shall  always  reflect  upon  with  admiration." 

' '  I  hope  you  won' t  mention  it,  though, ' '  said  Thorpe, 
as  they  shook  hands  ;  "  either  that  or — or  anything  else." 

"  I  shall  preserve  the  most  guarded — the  most  diplo 
matic  secrecy, ' '  his  Lordship  assured  him,  as  they  walked 
toward  the  door. 

Thorpe  opened  this  door,  and  stepped  aside,  with  a  half 
bow,  to  facilitate  the  exit  of  the  Marquis,  who  bent  gra 
cious  acknowledgment  of  the  courtesy.  Then,  with  an 
abrupt  start  of  surprise,  the  two  men  straightened  them 
selves.  Directly  in  front  of  them,  leaning  lightly  against 
the  brass-rail  which  guarded  the  entrance  to  the  Board 
Room,  stood  Lord  Plowden. 

A  certain  sense  of  confusion,  unwelcome  hut  inevitable, 
visibly  enveloped  this  chance  meeting.  (The  Marquis 
blinked  very  hard/as  he  exchanged  a  fleeting  hand-shake 
with  the  younger  nobleman,  and  murmured  some  indis 
tinguishable  commonplaces.  Then,  with  a  graceful  ce 
lerity,  which  was  more  than  diplomatic,  he  disappeared. 
Thorpe,  with  more  difficulty,  recovered  a  sort  of  stolidity 
of  expression  that  might  pass  for  composure.  He  in  turn 
gave  his  hand  to  the  newcomer,  and  nodded  to  him,  and 
achieved  a  doubtful  smile. 

11  Come  in  !  "  he  said,  haltingly.  "  Where  did  you  drop 
from  ?  Glad  to  see  you  !  How  are  all  your  people  ?  ' ' 

A  moment  later  the  young  Viscount  was  seated  in  the 
chair  which  the  elderly  Marquis  had  vacated.  He  pre 
sented  therein  a  figure  which,  in  its  way,  was  perhaps  as 
courtly  as  the  other  had  been — but  the  way  was  widely 


248  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

different.  Lord  Plowden's  fine,  lithe  form  expressed  no 
deference  in  its  easy  postures.  His  handsome  face  was  at 
no  pains  to  assume  conciliatory  or  ingratiating  aspects. 
His  brilliant  brown  eyes  sparkled  a  confident,  buoyant 
gaze  full  into  the  heavy,  lethargic  countenance  of  the  big 
man  at  the  desk. 

"  I  have  n't  bothered  you  before,"  he  said,  tossing  his 
gloves  into  his  hat,  and  spreading  his  frock-coat  out  by  its 
silk  lapels.  He  crossed  his  legs,  and  sat  back  with  a  com 
fortable  smile.  "  I  knew  you  were  awfully  busy — and  I 
kept  away  as  long  as  I  could.  But  now — well,  the  truth 
is — I  'm  in  rather  of  a  hole.  I  hope  you  don't  mind  my 
coming." 

'  '  Why  not  at  all, ' '  said  Thorpe,  laconically.  After  a 
momentary  pause  he  added  :  "  The  Marquis  has  just  been 
consulting  me  about  the  postponement  of  the  annual  meet 
ing.  I  suppose  you  agree  with  us — that  it  would  be  better 
to  put  it  off.  There  's  really  nothing  to  report.  Of 
course,  you  know  more  about  the  situation  than  he  does 
— between  ourselves.  The  shareholders  don't  want  a 
meeting;  it 's  enough  for  them  that  their  shares  are  worth 
fifteen  or  twenty  times  what  they  paid  for  them.  And 
certainly  we  don't  need  a  meeting,  as  things  stand  now." 

* '  Ah  yes — how  do  things  stand  now  ?  ' '  asked  Lord 
Plowden,  briskly. 

"  Well," — Thorpe  eyed  his  visitor  with  a  moody  blank- 
ness  of  gaze,  his  chin  once  more  buried  in  his  collar — 
11  well,  everything  is  going  all  right,  as  far  as  I  can  see. 
But,  of  course,  these  dealings  in  our  shares  in  the  City 
have  taken  up  all  my  time — so  that  I  have  n't  been  able 
to  give  any  attention  to  starting  up  work  in  Mexico. 
That  being  the  case,  I  shall  arrange  to  foot  all  the  bills 
for  this  year's  expenses — the  rent,  the  Directors'  fees  and 
clerk-hire  and  so  on — out  of  my  own  pocket.  It  comes, 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  249 

all  told,  to  about  .£2,750 — without  counting  my  extra 
,£1,000  as  Managing  Director.  I  don't  propose  to  ask  for 
a  penny  of  that,  under  the  circumstances — and  I  '11  even 
pay  the  other  expenses.  So  that  the  Company  is  n't  los 
ing  a  penny  by  our  not  getting  to  work  at  the  development 
of  the  property.  No  one  could  ask  anything  fairer  than 
that. — And  are  your  mother  and  sister  quite  well  ?  " 

"  Oh,  very  well  indeed,  thanks,"  replied  the  other.  He 
relapsed  abruptly  into  a  silence  which  was  plainly  preoccu 
pied.  Something  of  the  radiant  cheerfulness  with  which 
his  face  had  beamed  seemed  to  have  faded  away. 

"  I  'm  in  treaty  for  a  house  and  a  moor  in  the  High 
lands  "  —Thorpe  went  on,  in  a  casual  tone — "  in  fact,  I  'm 
hesitating  between  three  or  four  places  that  all  seem  to  be 
pretty  good — but  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  get  away 
much  before  the  twentieth.  I  hope  you  can  contrive  to 
come  while  I  'm  there.  I  should  like  it  very  much  if  you 
would  bring  your  mother  and  sister — and  your  brother 
too.  I  have  a  nephew  about  his  age — a  fine  young  fellow 
— who  'd  be  company  for  him.  Why  can't  you  say  now 
that  you  '11  all  come  ?" 

Lord  Plowden  emerged  from  his  brown  study  with  the 
gleam  of  some  new  idea  on  his  face.  "  I  might  bring  my 
sister,"  he  said.  "  My  mother  hates  Scotland.  She 
does  n't  go  about,  either,  even  in  England.  But  I  dare 
say  Winnie  would  enjoy  it  immensely.  She  has  a  great 
opinion  of  you,  you  know. ' ' 

*  *  I  only  saw  her  that  once, ' '  Thorpe  remarked.     Some 
thought  behind  his  words  lent  a  musing  effect  to  the  tone 
in  which  they  were  uttered.     The  brother's  contemplative  • 
smile  seemed  a  comment  upon  this  tone. 

' '  Women  are  curious  creatures, ' '  he  said.  * '  They 
take  fancies  and  dislikes  as  swiftly  and  irresponsibly  as 
cloud-shadows  shift  and  change  on  a  mountain-side  in 


THE   MARKET-PLACE 

April.  But  I  happen  to  know  that  my  sister  does  like 
you  immensely.  So  does  my  mother,"  he  added,  with 
another  little  smile.  He  continued  to  regard  Thorpe's 
face,  but  there  was  an  increasing  uncertainty  in  his  glance. 
"  You  've  put  on  flesh,  have  n't  you  ?  "  he  ventured,  after 
a  brief  pause.  There  was  the  implication  in  his  voice  and 
manner  that  he  observed  changes  which  disconcerted 
him. 

"  Not  much,  I  guess,"  replied  the  other,  carelessly. 
"  I  've  been  sticking  to  the  City  pretty  closely.  That  's 
all.  There  's  nothing  that  a  fortnight's  rest  won't  put 
right.  I  should  like  it  first-rate  to  have  you  and  your 
sister  come.  I  '11  let  you  know  which  place  I  decide 
upon.  Very  likely  you  can  manage  to  bring  her  at  the 
same  time  that  some  other  ladies  will  be  there.  I  expect 
Lady  Cressage  and  Miss  Madden,  you  know." 

Lord  Plowden  stared  at  his  friend.  ' '  Are  they  back  ? 
Have  they  returned  to  Kngland  ?  "  he  asked,  confusedly. 

"  Oh,  did  n't  you  know?  "  Thorpe  pursued,  with  an 
accession  of  amiability.  He  visibly  had  pleasure  in  the 
disclosure  of  the  other's  ignorance.  "  They  've  been  in 
London  for  two  or  three  weeks.  That  is,  Miss  Madden 
has  been  taking  flying  trips  to  see  cathedrals  and  so  on, 
but  Lady  Cressage  has  stayed  in  town.  Their  long  jour- 
neyings  have  rather  done  her  up."  He  looked  Plowden 
straight  in  the  eye,  and  added  with  an  air  of  deliberation  : 
"  I  'm  rather  anxious  about  her  health." 

The  nobleman  frankly  abandoned  his  efforts  to  main 
tain  an  undisturbed  front.  '  You — are — anxious,"  he 
repeated,  frowning  in  displeased  wonderment. 

; '  Why  yes — why  not  ?  ' '  demanded  Thorpe,  with  a 
sudden  growl  in  his  voice.  As  he  covered  the  handsome 
Viscount  with  his  heavy,  intent  gaze,  impulses  of  wrath 
stirred  within  him.  Why  should  this  fop  of  a  lordling 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  251 

on  this  air  of  contemptuous  incredulity  ?  "  What  is 
there  so  amazing  about  that  ?  Why  should  n't  I  be 
anxious  ?  " 

The  peremptory  harshness  of  his  manner,  and  the  scowl 
on  his  big,  lowering  face,  brought  a  sort  of  self-control 
back  to  the  other.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  with  an 
attempt  at  nonchalance.  ( '  Why  not  indeed  !  "  he  said, 
as  lightly  as  he  could.  With  hands  on  knees,  he  bent 
forward  as  if  to  rise.  "  But  perhaps  I  'd  better  come  in 
another  day,"  he  suggested,  tentatively.  "  I  'm  inter 
rupting  you." 

"  No— sit  still,"  Thorpe  bade  him,  and  then,  with  chin 
settled  more  determinedly  than  ever  in  his  cravat,  sat 
eyeing  him  in  a  long,  dour  silence. 

Lord  Plowden  found  it  impossible  to  obtain  from  this 
massive,  apathetic  visage  any  clue  to  the  thoughts  work 
ing  behind  it.  He  chanced  to  recall  the  time  when  he  had 
discussed  with  Thorpe  the  meaning  and  values  of  this  in 
scrutable  expression  which  the  latter' s  countenance  could 
assume.  It  had  seemed  interesting  and  even  admirable  to 
him  then — but  then  he  had  not  foreseen  the  possibility 
that  he  himself  might  some  day  confront  its  adamantine 
barrier  with  a  sinking  heart.  All  at  once  he  could  bear 
this  implacable  sphinx-gaze  no  longer. 

"I'm  sure  some  other  day  would  be  better,"  he  urged, 
with  an  open  overture  to  propitiation  in  his  tone. 
"  You  're  not  in  the  mood  to  be  bothered  with  my  affairs 
today." 

' '  As  much  today  as  any  other, ' '  Thorpe  answered  him, 
slowly. 

The  other  sat  suddenly  upright — and  then  upon  a  mo 
ment's  reflection  rose  to  his  feet.  "  I  don't  in  the  least 
know  what  to  make  of  all  this,"  he  said,  with  nervous 
precipitancy.  "  If  I  've  offended  you  in  any  way,  say  so, 


2$2  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

and  I  will  apologize  at  once.  But  treatment  of  this  sort 
passes  my  comprehension." 

Thorpe  in  truth  did  not  himself  comprehend  it  much 
more  clearly.  Some  strange  freak  of  wilfulness  impelled 
him  to  pursue  this  unintelligible  persecution.  "  I  've 
said  nothing  about  any  offense, ' '  he  declared,  in  a  hard, 
deliberate  voice.  ' '  It  is  your  own  word.  All  the  same 
— I  mention  the  name  of  a  lady — a  lady,  mind  you,  whom 
I  met  under  your  own  roof — and  you  strike  attitudes  and 
put  on  airs  as  if — as  if  I  was  n't  good  enough  !  " 

"  Oh,  upon  my  word,  that  's  all  rubbish  !  "  the  other 
broke  in.  "  Nothing  could  have  been  further  from  my 
thoughts,  I  assure  you.  Quite  naturally  I  was  surprised 
for  the  moment  at  a  bit  of  unexpected  news— but  that  was 
all.  I  give  you  my  word  that  was  all." 

' '  Very  well,  then, ' '  Thorpe  consented  grudgingly  to 
mutter. 

He  continued  his  sullen  scrutiny  of  the  man  standing 
before  him,  noting  how  the  vivacity  of  his  bearing  had 
deteriorated  in  these  few  minutes.  He  had  cut  such  a 
gallant  figure  when  he  entered  the  room,  with  his  spark 
ling  eye  and  smile,  his  almost  jaunty  manner,  his  superior 
tailor's  plumage — and  now  he  was  such  a  crestfallen  and 
wilted  thing  !  Remembering  their  last  conversation  to 
gether — remembering  indeed  how  full  of  liking  for  this 
young  nobleman  he  had  been  when  they  last  met — Thorpe 
paused  to  wonder  at  the  fact  that  he  felt  no  atom  of  pity 
for  him  now.  What  was  his  grievance  ?  What  had 
Plowden  done  .to  provoke  this  savage  hostility  ?  Thorpe 
could  not  tell.  He  knew  only  that  unnamed  forces 
dragged  him  forward  to  hurt  and  humiliate  his  former 
friend.  Obscurely,  no  doubt,  there  was  something  about 
a  woman  in  it.  Plowden  had  been  an  admirer  of  Lady 
Cressage.  There  was  her  father's  word  for  it  that  if  there 


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had  been  money  enough  he  would  have  wished  to  marry 
her.  There  had  been,  as  well,  the  General's  hint  that  if 
the  difficulty  of  Plowden's  poverty  were  removed,  he  might 
still  wish  to  marry  her — a  hint  which  Thorpe  discovered 
to  be  rankling  with  a  sudden  new  soreness  in  his  mind. 
Was  that  why  he  hated  Plowden  ?  No — he  said  to  him 
self  that  it  was  not.  He  was  going  to  marry  Lady  Cres- 
sage  himself.  Her  letter,  signifying  delicately  her  assent 
to  his  proposal,  had  come  to  him  that  very  morning — was 
in  his  pocket  now.  What  did  he  care  about  the  bye-gone 
aspirations  of  other  would-be  suitors  ?  And,  as  for  Plow- 
den,  he  had  not  even  known  of  her  return  to  London. 
Clearly  there  remained  no  communications  of  any  sort  be 
tween  them.  It  was  not  at  all  on  her  account,  he  assured 
himself,  that  he  had  turned  against  Plowden.  But  what 
other  reason  could  there  be  ?  He  observed  his  visitor's 
t>erturbed  and  dejected  mien  with  a  grim  kind  of  satis 
faction — but  still  he  could  not  tell  why. 

"  This  is  all  terribly  important  to  me,"  the  nobleman 
3aid,  breaking  the  unpleasant  silence.  His  voice  was  sur 
charged  with  earnestness.  "  Apparently  you  are  annoyed 
with  something — what  it  may  be  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me 
make  out.  All  I  can  say  is  " — and  he  broke  off  with  a 
helpless  gesture  which  seemed  to  imply  that  he  feared  to 
say  anything. 

Thorpe  put  out  his  lips.  "  I  don't  know  what  you 
mean,"  he  said,  brusquely. 

*  What  I  mean  ' '  —the  other  echoed,  with  bewildered 
vagueness  of  glance.  "  I  'm  all  at  sea.  I  don't  in  the 
least  grasp  the  meaning  of  anything.  You  yourself 
volunteered  the  declaration  that  you  would  do  great 
things  for  me.  *  We  are  rich  men  together  ' — those  were 
your  own  words.  I  urged  you  at  the  time  to  go  slowly — 
to  consider  carefully  whether  you  were  n't  being  too 


254  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

generous.  I  myself  said  to  you  that  you  were  ridiculously 
exaggerating  what  you  called  your  obligation  to  me.  It 
was  you  who  insisted  upon  presenting  me  with  100,000 
shares. ' ' 

:<  Well,  they  are  here  ready  for  you,"  said  Thorpe,  with 
calculated  coldness.  "  You  can  have  them  whenever  you 
please.  I  promised  them  to  you,  and  set  them  aside  for 
you.  You  can  take  them  away  with  you  now,  if  you  like. 
What  are  you  kicking  up  this  fuss  for,  then  ?  Upon  my 
word  ! — you  come  here  and  suggest  to  me  that  I  made 
promises  to  you  which  I  '  ve  broken  ! ' ' 

Plowden  looked  hard  at  him,  as  he  turned  over  in  his 
mind  the  purport  of  these  words.  ' '  I  see  what  you  are 
doing,"  he  said  then.  "  You  turn  over  to  me  100,000 
vendor's  deferred  shares.  Thanks  !  I  have  already  1,000 
of  them.  I  keep  them  in  the  same  box  with  my  father's 
Confederate  bonds." 

"  What  the  hell  do  you  mean  ?  "  Thorpe  broke  in  with 
explosive  warmth,  lifting  himself  in  his  chair. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Thorpe,"  Plowden  retorted,  "  let  's 
get  this  talk  on  an  intelligent,  common-sense  footing." 
He  had  regained  something  of  his  self-control,  and  keenly 
put  forward  now  to  help  him  all  his  persuasive  graces  of 
eye  and  speech.  He  seated  himself  once  more.  "  I  'm 
convinced  that  you  want  to  be  good  to  me.  Of  course 
you  do !  If  I '  ve  seemed  here  for  a  minute  or  two  to  think 
otherwise,  it  was  because  I  misunderstood  things.  Don't 
let  there  be  any  further  misunderstandings  !  I  apologize 
for  doing  you  the  momentary  injustice  of  suspecting  that 
you  were  going  to  play  off  the  vendor's  shares  on  me. 
Of  course  you  said  it — but  it  was  a  joke." 

'  There  seems  to  be  a  joke  somewhere,  sure  enough," 
said  Thorpe,  in  dryly  metallic  tones—"  but  it  is  n't  me 
who  's  the  joker.  I  told  you  you  should  have  100,000  of 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  255 

my  400,000  shares,  did  n't  I  ?  I  told  you  that  in  so  many 
words.  Very  well,  what  more  do  you  want  ?  Here  they 
are  for  }^ou  !  I  keep  my  promise  to  the  letter.  But  you 
— you  seem  to  think  you  're  entitled  to  make  a  row. 
What  do  you  mean  by  it  ?  " 

"  Just  a  little  word  " — interposed  Plowden,  with  stren 
uous  calmness  of  utterance — ' '  what  you  say  may  be  true 
enough — yes,  I  admit  it  is  true  as  far  as  it  goes.  But  was 
that  what  either  of  us  had  in  our  minds  at  the  time  ?  You 
know  it  was  n't  !  You  had  just  planned  a  coup  on  the 
Stock  Exchange  which  promised  you  immense  rewards. 
I  helped  you  to  pass  a  bogus  allotment  through  our  Board 
— without  which  your  coup  would  n't  have  been  worth  a 
farthing.  You  were  enthusiastically  grateful  to  me  then. 
In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  you  promised  me  a 
quarter  of  all  you  should  make.  *  We  are  both  rich  men  !  ' 
I  remember  those  very  words  of  yours.  They  have  never 
been  out  of  my  mind.  We  discussed  the  things  that  we 
would  each  do,  when  we  came  into  this  wealth.  It  was 
taken  for  granted  in  all  our  talk  that  your  making  money 
meant  also  my  making  money.  That  was  the  complete 
understanding — here  in  London,  and  while  you  were  at 
my  house.  You  know  it  as  well  as  I  do.  And  I  refuse 
to  suppose  that  you  seriously  intend  to  sit  there  and  pre 
tend  that  you  meant  to  give  me  nothing  but  an  armful  of 
waste  paper.  It  would  be  too  monstrous  !  " 

Thorpe  rapped  with  his  nails  on  the  desk,  to  point  the 
force  of  his  rejoinder  :  "  How  do  you  account  for  the  fact, 
my  Lord  " — he  gave  his  words  a  chillingly  scornful  pre 
cision  of  utterance — "  that  I  distinctly  mentioned  400,000 
vendor's  shares  of  mine,  100,000  of  which  I  promised  to 
turn  over  to  you  ?  Those  were  the  specific  terms,  were 
they  not  ?  You  don't  deny  it  ?  Then  what  are  you  talk 
ing  about  ? ' ' 


256  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

"  I  account  for  it  in  this  way  " — said  Plowden,  after  a 
moment's  baffled  reflection  :  "  at  that  time  you  yourself 
had  n't  grasped  the  difference  between  the  two  classes  of 
shares.  You  thought  the  vendor's  shares  would  play  a 
part  in  the  game.  Ah  !  I  see  I  've  hit  the  mark  !  That 
was  the  way  of  it  ! — And  now  here,  Thorpe  !  L,et  all 
that  's  been  said  be  bye-gones  !  I  don't  want  any  verbal 
triumph  over  you.  You  don't  want  to  wrong  me — and 
yourself  too— by  sticking  to  this  quibble  about  vendor's 
shares.  You  intended  to  be  deuced  good  to  me — and 
what  have  I  done  that  you  should  round  on  me  now  ?  I 
have  n't  bothered  you  before.  I  came  today  only  because 
things  are  particularly  rotten,  financially,  just  now.  And 
I  don't  even  want  to  hold  you  to  a  quarter — I  leave  that 
entirely  to  you.  But  after  all  that  's  been  said  and  done 
— I  put  it  to  you  as  one  man  to  another — you  are  morally 
bound  to  help  me  out. ' ' 

"How  do  you  mean? — 'all  that  's  been  said  and 
done  '  ?  "  Thorpe  asked  the  question  in  some  confusion 
of  moods.  Perhaps  it  was  the  ethical  force  of  I^ord  Plow- 
den' s  appeal,  perhaps  only  a  recurring  sense  of  his  earlier 
affection  for  the  man — but  for  the  moment  he  wavered  in 
his  purpose. 

The  peer  flushed  a  little,  as  he  looked  at  the  floor,  re 
volving  possible  answers  to  this  query.  His  ear  had  been 
quick  to  seize  the  note  of  hesitation  in  Thorpe's  tone. 
He  strove  anxiously  to  get  together  considerations 
which  should  tip  the  fluttering  balance  definitely  his 
way. 

"  Well,"  he  began  slowly,  "  I  hardly  know  how  to 
put  it.  Of  course  there  was,  in  the  first  place,  the  immense 
expectation  of  fortune  which  you  gave  me,  and  which  I  'm 
afraid  I  've  more  than  lived  up  to.  And  then,  of  course, 
others  shared  my  expectations.  It  was  n't  a  thing  one 


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could  very  well  keep  to  oneself.  My  mother  and  my  sis 
ter — especially  my  sister — they  were  wonderfully  excited 
about  it.  You  are  quite  the  hero  in  their  eyes.  And 
then — you  remember  that  talk  we  had,  in  which  you  said 
I  could  help  you — socially,  you  know.  I  did  it  a  little,  just 
as  a  start,  but  of  course  there  's  no  end  to  what  could  be 
done.  You  've  been  too  busy  heretofore,  but  we  can  be 
gin  now  whenever  you  like.  I  don't  mind  telling  you — • 
I  've  had  some  thoughts  of  a  possible  marriage  for  you. 
In  point  of  blood  and  connections  it  would  be  such  a 
match  as  a  commoner  has  n't  made  before  in  my  memory 
— a  highly-cultivated  and  highly-bred  young  lady  of  rank 
• — and  settlements  could  be  made  so  that  a  considerable, 
quantity  of  land  would  eventually  come  to  your  son.  I  j 
need  n't  tell  you  that  land  stands  for  much  more  than  \ 
money,  if  you  happen  to  set  your  mind  on  a  baronetcy  or  } 
a  peerage.  Of  course — I  need  scarcely  say — I  mention 
this  marriage  only  as  something  which  may  or  may  not 
attract  you, — it  is  quite  open  to  you  to  prefer  another, — • 
but  there  is  hardly  anything  of  that  sort  in  which  I  and 
my  connections  could  not  be  of  use  to  you. ' ' 

Even  more  by  the  tone  and  inflection  of  these  words 
than  by  the  phrases  themselves,  Thorpe  divined  that  he  l 
was  being  offered  the  hand  of  the  Hon.  Winifred  Plowden 
in  marriage.  He  recalled  vividly  the  fact  that  once  the 
shadow  of  some  such  thought  had  floated  through  his  own 
brain  ;  there  had  been  a  moment — it  seemed  curiously  re 
mote,  like  a  dream-phantom  from  some  previous  state  of 
existence— when  he  had  dwelt  with  personal  interest  upon 
her  inheritance  from  long  lines  of  noblemen,  and  her  re 
lation  to  half  the  peerage.  Then,  swiftly,  illogically,  he 
disliked  the  brother  of  this  lady  more  than  ever. 

"  All  that  is  talking  in  the  air,"  he  said,  with  abrupt 
lecision.     "  I  see  nothing  in  it.      You  shall  have  your 


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vendor's  shares,  precisely  as  I  promised  you.  I  don't 
see  how  you  can  possibly  ask  for  anything  more."  He 
looked  at  the  other's  darkling  face  for  a  moment,  and 
then  rose  with  unwieldy  deliberation.  "  If  you  're  so 
hard  up  though,"  he  continued,  coldly,  "  I  don't  mind 
doing  this  much  for  you.  I  '11  exchange  the  thousand 
vendor's  shares  you  already  hold — the  ones  I  gave  you  to 
qualify  you  at  the  beginning — for  ordinary  shares.  You 
can  sell  those  for  fifteen  thousand  pounds  cash.  In  fact, 
I  '11  buy  them  of  you  now.  I  '11  give  you  a  cheque  for 
the  amount.  Do  you  want  it  ?  " 

Lord  Plowden,  red-faced  and  frowning,  hesitated  for  a 
fraction  of  time.  Then  in  constrained  silence  he  nodded, 
and  Thorpe,  leaning  ponderousty  over  the  desk,  wrote  out 
the  cheque.  His  Lordship  took  it,  folded  it  up,  and  put 
it  in  his  pocket  without  immediate  comment. 

"  Then  this  is  the  end  of  things,  is  it  ?  "  he  asked,  after 
an  awkward  silence,  in  a  voice  he  strove  in  vain  to  keep 
from  shaking. 

"  What  things  ?  "  said  the  other. 

Plowden  shrugged  his  shoulders,  framed  his  lips  to 
utter  something  which  he  decided  not  to  say,  and  at  last 
turned  on  his  heel.  "  Good  day,"  he  called  out  over  his 
shoulder,  and  left  the  room  with  a  flagrant  air  of  hostility. 

Thorpe,  wandering  about  the  apartment,  stopped  after 
a  time  at  the  cabinet,  and  helped  himself  to  a  drink. 
The  thing  most  apparent  to  him  was  that  of  set  purpose 
he  had  converted  a  friend  into  an  enemy.  Why  had  he 
done  this  ?  He  asked  himself  the  question  in  varying 
forms,  over  his  brandy  and  soda,  but  no  convincing  an 
swer  came.  He  had  done  it  because  he  had  felt  like 
doing  it.  It  was  impossible  to  trace  motives  further  than 
that. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

will  be  down  in  a  very  few  moments,"  Miss 
Madden  assured  Thorpe  that  evening,  when  he 
entered  the  drawing-room  of  the  house  she  had  taken  in 
Grafton  Street. 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  and  smiled,  as  he  bowed  over 
the  hand  she  extended  to  him.  His  glance  expressed 
with  forceful  directness  his  thought  :  "  Ah,  then  she  has 
told  you  !  " 

The  complacent  consciousness  of  producing' a  fine  effect 
in  evening-clothes"  had  given  to  Mr.  Stormont  Thorpe 
habitually  now  a  mildness  of  manner,  after  the  dressing 
hour,  which  was  lacking  to  his  deportment  in  the  day 
time.  The  conventional  attire  of  ceremony,  juggled  in 
the  hands  of  an  inspired  tailor,  had  been  brought  to  lend 
to  his  ponderous  figure  a  dignity,  and  even  something  of 
a  grace,  which  the  man  within  assimilated  and  made  his 
own.  :  It  was  an  equable  and  rather  amiable  Thorpe 
whom  people  encountered  after  nightfall — a  gentleman 
who  looked  impressive  enough  to  have  powerful  perform 
ances  believed  of  him,  yet  seemed  withal  an  approachable 
and  easy-going  person.  Men  who  saw  him  at  midnight 
or  later  spoke  of  him  to  their  womenkind  with  a  certain 
significant  reserve,  in  which  trained  womankind  read  the  < 
suggestion  that  the  "  Rubber  King  "  drank  a  good  deal,  I 
and  was  probably  not  wholly  nice  in  his  cups. 

This,  however,  could  not  be  said  to  render  him  less  in 
teresting  in  any  eyes.  There  was  indeed  about  it  the  im- 

259 


260  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

plication  of  a  generous  nature,  or  at  the  least  of  a  blind  side 
— and  it  is  not  unpleasant  to  discover  these  attributes  in  a 
new  man  who  has  made  his  half-million,  and  has,  or  may 
have,  countless  favours  to  bestow. 

It  was  as  if  his  tongue  instead  of  his  eyes  had  uttered 
the  exclamation — "  Ah,  then  she  has  told  you  !  " — for 
Miss  Madden  took  it  as  having  been  spoken. 

"  I  'm  not  disposed  to  pretend  that  I  'm  overjoyed 
about  it,  you  know,"  she  said  to  him  bluntly,  as  their 
hands  dropped,  and  they  stood  facing  each  other.  "  If  I 
said  I  congratulated  you,  it  would  be  only  the  emptiest 
form.  And  I  hate  empty  forms." 

"  Why  should  you  think  that  I  won't  make  a  good  hus 
band  ?  ' '  Thorpe  asked  the  question  with  a  good-natured 
if  peremptory  frankness  which  came  most  readily  to  him 
in  the  presence  of  this  American  lady,  herself  so  outspoken 
and  masterful. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  specially  doubt  it,"  she  replied. 
"  I  suppose  any  man  has  in  him  the  makings  of  what  is 
called  a  good  husband — if  the  conditions  are  sufficiently 
propitious. ' ' 

"  Well  then — what 's  the  matter  with  the  conditions  ?  " 
he  demanded,  jocosely. 

Miss  Madden  shrugged  her  shoulders  slightly.  Thorpe 
noted  the  somewhat  luxuriant  curves  of  these  splendid 
shoulders,  and  the  creamy  whiteness  of  the  skin,  upon 
which,  round  the  full  throat,  a  chain  of  diamonds  lay  as 
upon  satin — and  recalled  that  he  had  not  seen  her  before 
in  what  he  phrased  to  himself  as  so  much  low-necked 
dress.  The  deep  fire-gleam  in  her  broad  plaits  of  hair 
gave  a  wonderful  brilliancy  to  this  colouring  of  brow  and 
throat  and  bosom.  He  marvelled  at  himself  for  discover 
ing  only  now  that  she  also  was  beautiful — and  then 
thrilled  with  pride  at  the  thought  that  henceforth  his  life 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  261 

might  be  passed  altogether  among  beautiful  women,  radi 
ant  in  gems  and  costly  fabrics,  who  would  smile  upon  him 
at  his  command. 

"  Oh,  I  have  no  wish  to  be  a  kill-joy,"  she  protested. 
"  I  'm  sure  I  hope  all  manner  of  good  results  from  the — 
the  experiment." 

"  I  suppose  that  's  what  it  comes  to,"  he  said,  medi 
tatively.  "  It  's  all  an  experiment.  Every  marriage  in 
the  world  must  be  that — neither  more  nor  less. ' ' 

* '  With  all  the  experience  of  the  ages  against  its  coming 
out  right."  She  had  turned  to  move  toward  a  chair,  but 
looked  now  over  her  shoulder  at  him.  * '  Have  you  ever 
seen  what  seemed  to  you  an  absolutely  happy  marriage  in 
your  life?" 

Upon  reflection  he  shook  his  head.  "  I  don't  recall 
one  on  the  spur  of  the  minute, ' '  he  confessed.  ' '  Not  the 
kind,  I  mean,  that  you  read  about  in  books.  But  I  've 
seen  plenty  where  the  couple  got  along  together  in  a 
good,  easy,  comfortable  sort  of  way,  without  a  notion  of 
any  sort  of  unpleasantness.  It  's  people  who  marry  too 
young  who  do  most  of  the  fighting,  I  imagine.  After 
people  have  got  to  a  sensible  age,  and  know  what  they 
want  and  what  they  can  get  along  without,  why  then 
there  's  no  reason  for  any  trouble.  We  don't  start  out 
with  any  school- boy  and  school-girl  moonshine " 

"  Oh,  there  's  a  good  deal  to  be  said  for  the  moonshine," 
she  interrupted  him,  as  she  sank  upon  the  sofa. 

"Why  certainly,"  he  assented,  amiably,  as  he  stood 
looking  down  at  her.  "  The  more  there  is  of  it,  the  bet 
ter — if  it  comes  naturally,  and  people  know  enough  to 
understand  that  it  is  moonshine,  and  is  n't  the  be-all  and 
end-all  of  every  thing. " 

"  There  's  a  lover  for  you  !  "  Miss  Madden  cried,  with 
mirth  and  derision  mingled  in  her  laugh. 


262  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  Don't  you  worry  about  me,"  he  told  her.  "  I  'm  a 
good  enough  lover,  all  right.  And  when  you  come  to 
that,  if  Edith  is  satisfied,  I  don't  precisely  see  what " 

:<  What  business  it  is  of  mine  ?  "  she  finished  the  sen 
tence  for  him.  "  You  're  entirely  right.  As  you  say,  if 
she  's  satisfied,  no  one  else  has  anything  to  do  with  it." 

"  But  have  you  got  any  right  to  assume  that  she  is  n't 
satisfied  ?  "  he  asked  her  with  swift  directness — "  or  any 
reason  for  supposing  it  ?  " 

Miss  Madden  shook  her  head,  but  the  negation  seemed 
qualified  by  the  whimsical  smile  she  gave  him.  "  None 
whatever, ' '  she  said — and  on  the  instant  the  talk  was  ex 
tinguished  by  the  entrance  of  L,ady  Cressage. 

Thorpe's  vision  \vas  flooded  with  the  perception  of  his 
rare  fortune  as  he  went  to  meet  her.  He  took  the  hand 
she  offered,  and  looked  into  the  smile  of  her  greeting,  and 
could  say  nothing.  Her  beauty  had  gathered  to  it  new 
forces  in  his  eyes — forces  which  dazzled  and  troubled  his 
glance.  The  thought  that  this  exquisite  being — this  in 
effable  compound  of  feeling  and  fine  nerves  and  sweet  wis 
dom  and  wit  and  loveliness — belonged  to  him  seemed  too 
vast  for  the  capacity  of  his  mind.  He  could  not  keep 
himself  from  trembling  a  little,  and  from  diverting  to  a 
screen  beyond  her  shoulder  a  gaze  which  he  felt  to  be 
overtly  dimmed  and  embarrassed. 

"  I  have  kept  you  waiting,"  she  murmured. 

The  soft  sound  of  her  voice  came  to  his  ears  as  from  a 
distance.  It  bore  an  unfamiliar  note,  upon  the  strange 
ness  of  which  he  dwelt  for  a  detached  instant.  Then  its 
meaning  broke  in  upon  his  consciousness  from  all  sides, 
and  lighted  up  his  heavy  face  with  the  glow  of  a  con 
queror's  self-centred  smile.  He  bent  his  eyes  upon  her, 
and  noted  with  a  controlled  exaltation  how  her  glance  in 
turn  deferred  to  his,  and  fluttered  beneath  it,  and  shrank 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  263 

away.  He  squared  his  big  shoulders  and  lifted  his  head. 
Still  holding  her  jewelled  hand  in  his,  he  turned  and  led 
her  toward  the  sofa.  Halting,  he  bowed  writh  an  exag 
gerated  genuflection  and  flourish  of  his  free  hand  to  Miss 
Madden,  the  while  he  flashed  at  her  a  glance  at  once  of 
challenge  and  of  deprecation.  Through  the  sensitized 
contact  of  the  other  hand,  he  felt  that  the  woman  he  held 
bowed  also,  and  in  his  own  spirit  of  confused  defiance  and 
entreaty.  The  laugh  he  gave  then  seemed  to  dispel  the 
awkwardness  which  had  momentarily  hung  over  the 
mocking  salutation. 

Miss  Madden  laughed  too.  "  Oh,  I  surrender,"  she 
said.  "  You  drag  congratulations  from  me." 

Some  quality  in  the  tone  of  this  ungracious  speech  had 
the  effect  of  putting  the  party  at  its  ease.  Lady  Cressage 
seated  herself  beside  her  friend  on  the  sofa,  and  gently, 
abstractedly,  patted  one  of  her  hands.  Thorpe  remained 
on  his  feet,  looking  down  at  the  pair  with  satisfied  cheer 
fulness.  He  took  a  slip  of  paper  from  his  pocket,  to  sup 
port  a  statement  he  was  making. 

"  I  'm  forever  telling  you  what  a  strain  the  City  is  on 
a  man  in  my  position,"  he  said — "  and  today  I  had  the 
curiosity  to  keep  an  account  of  what  happened.  Here  it 
is.  I  had  thirty  callers.  Of  those,  how  many  do  you 
suppose  came  to  see  me  on  my  own  business  ?  Just  eight. 
That  is  to  say,  their  errands  were  about  investments  of 
mine,  but  most  of  them  managed  to  get  in  some  word 
about  axes  of  their  own  to  grind.  All  the  rest  made  no 
pretence  at  all  of  thinking  about  anybody  but  themselves. 
I  've  classified  them,  one  by  one,  here. 

"  First,  there  were  six  men  who  wanted  me  to  take 
shares  of  one  sort  or  another,  and  I  had  to  more  or  less 
listen  to  what  they  tried  to  make  out  their  companies 
were  like.  They  were  none  of  them  any  good.  Eight 


264  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

different  fellows  came  to  me  with  schemes  that  have  n't 
reached  the  company  stage.  One  had  a  scheme  for  get 
ting  possession  of  a  nigger  republic  in  the  West  Indies  by 
raising  a  loan,  and  then  repudiating  all  the  previous  loans. 
Another  wanted  me  to  buy  a  paper  for  him,  in  which  he 
was  to  support  all  my  enterprises.  Another  wanted  to 
start  a  bank — I  apparently  to  find  the  money,  and  he  the 
brains.  One  chap  wanted  me  to  finance  a  theatrical  syn 
dicate — he  had  a  bag  full  of  photographs  of  an  actress  all 
eyes  and  teeth  and  hair, — and  another  chap  had  a  scheme 
all  worked  out  for  getting  a  concession  from  Spain  for  one 
of  the  Caroline  Islands,  and  putting  up  a  factory  there  for 
making  porpoise-hide  leather. 

"  Then  there  were  three  inventors — let 's  see,  here  they 
are — one  with  a  coiled  wire  spring  for  scissors  inside  a 
pocket-knife,  and  one  with  a  bottle,  the  whole  top  of  which 
unscrews  instead  of  having  a  cork  or  stopper,  and  one  with 
an  electrical  fish-line,  a  fine  wire  inside  the  silk,  you  know, 
which  connects  with  some  battery  when  a  fish  bites,  and 
rings  a  bell,  and  throws  out  hooks  in  various  directions, 
and  does  all  sorts  of  things. 

"  Well  then,  there  was  a  man  who  wanted  me  to  take 
the  chairmanship  of  a  company,  and  one  who  wanted  me 
to  guarantee  an  overdraft  at  his  bank,  and  two  who 
wanted  to  borrow  money  on  stock,  and  one  parson-fellow 
who  tried  to  stick  me  for  a  subscription  to  some  Home 
or  other  he  said  he  had  for  children  in  the  country.  He 
was  the  worst  bounder  of  the  lot. 

"Well,  there  's  twenty-seven  people — and  twenty  of 
them  strangers  to  me,  and  not  worth  a  penny  to  me,  and 
all  trying  to  get  money  out  of  me.  Is  n't  that  a  dog's 
life  for  one  ?  ' ' 

<f  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  Madden,  contemplatively. 
"  A  lady  may  have  twice  that  number  of  callers  in  an 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  265 

afternoon — quite  as  great  strangers  to  all  intents  and  pur 
poses — and  not  even  have  the  satisfaction  of  discovering 
that  they  had  any  object  whatever  in  calling.  At  least 
your  people  had  some  motive  :  the  grey  matter  in>  their 
brain  was  working.  And  besides,  one  of  them  might  have 
had  something  to  say  which  you  would  value.  I  don't 
think  that  ever  happens  among  a  lady's  callers  ;  does  it, 
Edith?" 

Edith  smiled,  pleasantly  and  yet  a  little  wistfully,  but 
said  nothing. 

"  At  any  rate,"  Thorpe  went  on,  with  a  kind  of  pur 
pose  gathering  in  his  eyes,  "  none  of  those  fellows  cost  me 
anything,  except  in  time.  But  then  I  had  three  callers, 
almost  in  a  bunch,  and  one  of  them  took  out  of  me  thirty 
thousand  pounds,  and  another  fifteen  thousand  pounds, 
and  the  third — an  utter  stranger  he  was — he  got  an  abso 
lute  gratuity  of  ten  thousand  pounds,  besides  my  consent 
to  a  sale  which,  if  I  had  refused  it,  would  have  stood  me 
in  perhaps  forty  or  fifty  thousand  pounds  more.  You 
ladies  may  thank  your  stars  you  don't  have  that  kind  of 
callers!" 

The  sound  of  these  figures  in  the  air  brought  a  con 
strained  look  to  the  faces  of  the  women.  Seemingly  they 
confronted  a  subject  which  was  not  to  their  liking.  The 
American,  however,  after  a  moment's  pause,  took  it  up  in 
an  indifferent  manner. 

; '  You  speak  of  an  '  absolute  gratuity.'  I  know  nothing 
of  London  City  methods — but  is  n't  ten  thousand  pounds 
a  gratuity  on  a  rather  large  scale  ?  " 

Thorpe  hesitated  briefly,  then  smiled,  and,  with  slow 
deliberation,  drew  up  a  chair  and  seated  himself  before 
them.  "  Perhaps  I  don't  mind  telling  you  about  it,"  he 
began,  and  paused  again.  '*  I  had  a  letter  in  my  mail 
this  morning,"  he  went  on  at  last,  giving  a  sentimental 


266  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

significance  to  both  tone  and  glance — "  a  letter  which 
changed  everything  in  the  world  for  me,  and  made  me 
the  proudest  and  happiest  man  above  ground.  And  I  put 
that  letter  in  my  pocket,  right  here  on  the  left  side — and 
it  's  there  now,  for  that  matter  " — he  put  his  hand  to  his 
breast,  as  if  under  the  impulse  to  verify  his  words  by 
the  production  of  the  missive,  and  then  stopped  and 
flushed. 

The  ladies,  watching  him,  seemed  by  their  eyes  to  con 
done  the  mawkishness  of  the  demonstration  which  had 
tempted  him.  There  was  indeed  a  kind  of  approving  in 
terest  in  their  joint  regard,  which  he  had  not  experienced 
before. 

"  I  had  it  in  my  pocket,"  he  resumed,  with  an  acces 
sion  of  mellow  emotion  in  his  voice,  "  and  none  of  the 
callers  ever  got  my  thoughts  very  far  from  that  letter. 
And  one  of  these  was  an  old  man — a  French  banker  who 
must  be  seventy  years  old,  but  dyes  his  hair  a  kind  of 
purple  black — and  it  seems  that  his  nephew  had  got  the 
firm  into  a  terrible  kind  of  scrape,  selling  2,000  of  my  shares 
when  he  had  n't  got  them  to  sell  and  could  n't  get  them — 
and  the  old  man  came  to  beg  me  to  let  him  out  at  present 
market  figures.  He  got  Lord  Chaldon — he  's  my  Chair 
man,  you  know — to  bring  him,  and  introduce  him  as  his 
friend,  and  plend  for  him — but  I  don't  think  all  that,  by 
itself,  would  have  budged  me  an  atom.  But  then  the  old 
man  told  how  he  was  just  able  to  scrape  together  money 
enough  to  buy  the  shares  he  needed,  at  the  ruling  price, 
and  he  happened  to  mention  that  his  niece's  marriage 
portion  would  have  to  be  sacrificed.  Well,  then,  do  you 
know,  that  letter  in  my  pocket  said  something  to  me.  .  .  . 
And — well,  that 's  the  story.  The  girl's  portion,  I  wormed 
it  out  of  him,  was  ten  thousand  .  .  .  and  I  struck 
that  much  off  the  figure  that  I  allowed  him  to  buy  his 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  267 

shares,  and  save  his  firm,  for.     ...     It  was  all  the 
letter  that  did  it,  mind  you  !  ' ' 

He  concluded  the  halting  narrative  amid  a  marked 
silence.  The  ladies  looked  at  him  and  at  each  other,  but 
they  seemed  surprised  out  of  their  facility  of  comment. 
In  this  kind  of  flustered  hush,  the  door  was  opened  and 
dinner  was  announced. 

Miss  Madden  welcomed  the  diversion  by  rising  with 
ostentatious  vigour.  "  I  will  take  myself  out,"  she  de 
clared,  with  cheerful  promptness  leading  the  way.  Lady 
Cressage  took  the  arm  Thorpe  offered  her,  and  gave  no 
token  of  comprehending  that  her  wrist  was  being  caress 
ingly  pressed  against  his  side  as  they  moved  along. 

At  the  little  table  shining  in  the  centre  of  the  dark,  cool 
dining-room,  talk  moved  idly  about  among  general  topics. 
A  thunder-storm  broke  over  the  town,  at  an  early  stage 
of  the  dinner,  and  the  sound  of  the  rushing  downpour 
through  the  open  windows,  and  the  breath  of  freshness 
which  stirred  the  jaded  air,  were  pleasanter  than  any 
speech.  Thoughts  roved  intuitively  country-ward,  where 
the  long- needed  rain  would  be  dowering  the  landscape 
with  new  life — where  the  earth  at  sunrise  would  be  green 
again,  and" buoyant  in  reawakened  energy,  and  redolent 
with  the  perfumes  of  sweetest  summer.  They  spoke  of 
the  fields  and  the  moors  with  the  longing  of  tired  town- 
folk  in  August. 

"  Oh,  when  I  get  away  " — said  Thorpe,  fervently,  "  it i 
seems  to  me  that  I  don't  want  ever  to  come  back.     These  1 
last  few  weeks  have  got  terribly  on  my  nerve.      And 
really — why  should  I  come  back  ?     I  've  been  asking  my 
self  the  question — more  today  than  ever  before.     Of  course 
everything  has  been  different  today.     But  if  I  'm  to  get 
any  genuine  good  out  of  my — my  fortune — I  must  pull 
away  from  the  City  altogether  sometime — and  why  not 


268  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

now  ?  Of  course,  some  important  things  are  still  open— 
and  they  have  to  be  watched  night  and  day — but  after  all, 
Semple— that  's  my  Broker — he  could  do  it  for  me.  At 
the  most,  it  won't  last  more  than  another  six  weeks. 
There  is  a  settlement-day  next  week,  the  i5th,  and  an 
other  a  fortnight  after,  on  the  29th,  and  another  on  Sep 
tember  1 2th.  Well,  those  three  days,  if  they  're  worked 
as  I  intend  they  shall  be,  and  nothing  unforeseen  hap 
pens,  will  bring  in  over  four  hundred  thousand  pounds, 
and  close  the  '  corner '  in  Rubber  Consols  for  good.  Then 
I  need  never  see  the  City  again,  thank  God  !  And  for 
that  matter — why,  what  is  six  weeks  ?  It  's  like  to 
morrow.  I  'm  going  to  act  as  if  I  were  free  already. 
The  rain  fills  me  full  of  the  country.  Will  you  both 
come  with  me  tomorrow  or  next  day,  and  see  the  Pellesley 
place  in  Hertfordshire  ?  By  the  photographs  it  's  the 
best  thing  in  the  market.  The  newest  parts  of  it  are 
Tudor — and  that  's  what  I  've  always  wanted." 

"  How  unexpected  you  are!  "  commented  Miss  Madden. 
"  You  are  almost  the  last  person  I  should  have  looked  to 
for  a  sentiment  about  Tudor  foundations." 

Thorpe  put  out  his  lips  a  trifle.  "  Ah,  you  don't  know 
me,"  he  replied,  in  a  voice  milder  than  his  look  had 
promised.  "  Because  I  'm  rough  and  practical,  you 
must  n't  think  I  don't  know  good  things  when  I  see 
them.  Why,  all  the  world  is  going  to  have  living  proof 
very  soon  " — he  paused,  and  sent  a  smile  surcharged  with 
meaning  toward  the  silent  member  of  the  trio — "  living 
proof  that  I  'm  the  greatest  judge  of  perfection  in  beauty 
of  my  time." 

He  lifted  his  glass  as  he  spoke,  and  the  ladies  accepted 
with  an  inclination  of  the  head,  and  a  touch  of  the  wine 
at  their  lips,  his  tacit  toast. 

"Oh,  I  think  I  do  know  you,"  said  Celia  Madden, 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  269 

calmly  discursive.  "  Up  to  a  certain  point,  you  are  not 
so  unlike  other  men.  If  people  appeal  to  your  imagina 
tion,  and  do  not  contradict  you,  or  bore  you,  or  get  in  , 
your  way,  you  are  capable  of  being  very  nice  indeed  to  ' 
them.  But  that  is  n't  a  very  uncommon  quality.  What 
is  uncommon  in  you — at  least  that  is  my  reading — is  some 
thing  which  according  to  circumstances  may  be  nice,  or 
very  much  the  other  way  about.  It  's  something  which 
stands  quite  apart  from  standards  of  morals  or  ethics  or 
the  ordinary  emotions.  But  I  don't  know  whether  it  is 
desirable  for  me  to  enter  into  this  extremely  personal 
analysis. ' ' 

'  *  Oh  yes,  go  on, ' '  Thorpe  urged  her.     He  watched  her 
face  with  an  almost  excited  interest. 

* '  Well — I  should  say  that  you  possessed  a  capacity  for 
sudden  and  capricious  action  in  large  matters,  equally  im-  | 
patient  of  reasoning  and  indifferent  to  consequences,  which    i 
might  be  very  awkward,  and  even  tragic,  to  people  who 
happened  to  annoy  you,  or  stand  in  your  road.     You  have 
the  kind  of  organization  in  which,  within  a  second,  with 
out  any  warning  or  reason,  a  passing  whim  may  have 
worked  itself  up  into  an  imperative  law — something  you 
must  obey." 

The  man  smiled  and  nodded  approvingly  :  "  You  've 
got  me  down  fine,"  he  said. 

( '  I  talk  with  a  good  deal  of  confidence, ' '  she  went  on, 
with  a  cheerless,  ruminative  little  laugh,  "  because  it  is  < 
my  own  organization  that  I  am  describing,  too.  The 
difference  is  that  I  was  allowed  to  exploit  my  capacity  for 
mischief  very  early.  I  had  my  own  way  in  my  teens — 
my  own  money,  my  own  power — of  course  only  of  a  cer 
tain  sort,  and  in  a  very  small  place.  But  I  know  what  I 
did  with  that  power.  I  spread  trouble  and  misery  about 
me — always  of  course  on  a  small  scale.  Then  a  group  of 


2/0  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

things  happened  in  a  kind  of  climax — a  very  painful 
climax — and  it  shook  the  nonsense  out  of  me.  My  brother 
and  my  father  died — some  other  sobering  things  happened 
.  .  .  and  luckily  I  was  still  young  enough  to  stop 
short,  and  take  stock  of  myself,  and  say  that  there  were 
certain  paths  I  would  never  set  foot  on  again— and  stick 
to  it.  But  with  you — do  you  see  ? — power  only  comes  to 
you  when  you  are  a  mature  man.  Kxperiences,  no  matter 
how  unpleasant  they  are,  will  not  change  you  now.  You 
will  not  be  moved  by  this  occurrence  or  that  to  distrust 
yourself,  or  reconsider  your  methods,  or  form  new  resolu 
tions.  Oh  no  !  Power  will  be  terrible  in  your  hands,  if 
people  whom  you  can  injure  provoke  you  to  cruel 
courses " 

"  Oh,  dear— dear  !  "  broke  in  Lady  Cressage.  "  What 
a  distressing  Mrs.  Gummidge-Cassandra  you  are,  Celia  ! 
Pray  stop  it  !  " 

"  No — she  's  right  enough,"  said  Thorpe,  gravely. 
"  That 's  the  kind  of  man  I  am." 

He  seemed  so  profoundly  interested  in  the  contempla 
tion  of  this  portrait  which  had  been  drawn  of  him,  that 
the  others  respected  his  reflective  silence.  He  sat  for 
some  moments,  idly  fingering  a  fork  on  the  table,  and 
staring  at  a  blotch  of  vivid  red  projected  through  a  de 
canter  upon  the  cloth. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that 's  the  only  kind  of  man  it 's  worth 
while  to  be,"  he  added  at  last,  still  speaking  with  thought 
ful  deliberation.  *  There  's  nothing  else  in  the  world  so 
big  as  power — strength.  If  you  have  that,  you  can  get 
everything  else.  But  if  you  have  it,  and  don't  use  it,  then 
it  rusts  and  decays  on  your  hands.  It 's  like  a  thorough 
bred  horse.  You  can't  keep  it  idle  in  the  stable.  If  you 
don't  exercise  it,  you  lose  it." 

He  appeared  to  be  commenting  upon  some  illustration 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  271 

which  had  occurred  to  his  own  mind,  but  was  not  visible 
to  his  auditors.,)  While  they  regarded  him,  he  was 
prompted  to  admit  them  to  his  confidence. 

'  There  was  a  case  of  it  today,"   he  said,    and  then 
paused. 

''Precisely,"  put  in  Miss  Madden.  "  The  fact  that 
some  Frenchwoman,  of  whom  you  had  never  heard  be 
fore,  was  going  to  lose  her  marriage  portion  caught  your 
attention,  and  on  the  instant  you  presented  her  with 
$50,000,  an  exercise  of  power  which  happens  to  be  on  the 
generous  side — but  still  entirely  unreasoning,  and  not  de 
serving  of  any  intellectual  respect.  And  here  's  the 
point  :  if  it  had  happened  that  somebody  else  chanced  to 
produce  an  opposite  impression  upon  you,  you  would  have 
been  capable  of  taking  $50,0x30  away  from  him  with  just 
as  light  a  heart." 

Thorpe's  face  beamed  with  repressed  amusement.  "  As 
a  matter  of  fact  it  was  that  kind  of  case  I  was  going  to 
mention.  I  was  n't  referring  to  the  girl  and  her  marriage 
portion.  A  young  man  came  to  me  today — came  into  my 
room  all  cock-a- whoop,  smiling  to  himself  with  the  notion 
that  he  had  only  to  name  what  he  wanted,  and  I  would 
give  it  to  him — and ' ' 

He  stopped  abruptly,  with  a  confused  little  laugh.  He 
had  been  upon  the  brink  of  telling  about  Lord  Plowden's 
discomfiture,  and  even  now  the  story  itched  upon  his 
tongue.  It  cost  him  an  effort  to  put  the  narrative  aside, 
the  while  he  pondered  the  arguments  which  had  suddenly 
reared  themselves  against  publicity.  When  at  last  he 
spoke,  it  was  with  a  glance  of  conscious  magnanimity 
toward  the  lady  who  had  consented  to  be  his  wife. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said,  lightly.  "  There  was  n't 
much  to  it.  The  man  annoyed  me,  somehow — and  he 
did  n't  get  what  he  came  for — that  's  all." 


272  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  But  he  was  entitled  to  get  it  ?  "  asked  Celia  Madden. 

Thorpe's  lips  pouted  over  a  reply.  "  Well — no,"  he 
said,  with  a  kind  of  reluctance.  "  He  got  strictly  what 
he  was  entitled  to — precisely  what  I  had  promised  him — 
and  he  wrung  up  his  nose  at  that — and  then  I  actually 
gave  him  ,£15,000  he  was  n't  entitled  to  at  all.'' 

"  I  hardly  see  what  it  proves,  then,"  Edith  Cressage 
remarked,  and  the  subject  was  dropped. 

Some  two  hours  later,  Thorpe  took  his  departure.  It 
was  not  until  he  was  getting  into  the  hansom  which  had 
been  summoned,  that  it  all  at  once  occurred  to  him  that 
he  had  not  for  a  moment  been  alone  with  his  betrothed. 
Upon  reflection,  as  the  cab  sped  smoothly  forward,  this 
seemed  odd  to  him.  He  decided  finally  that  there  was 
probably  some  social  rule  about  such  things  which  he 
did  n't  understand. 

In  the  drawing-room  of  the  house  in  Grafton  Street 
which  he  had  quitted,  the  two  ladies  sat  with  faces  averted 
from  each  other,  in  constrained  silence. 

Edith  Cressage  rose  at  last,  and  took  a  few  aimless  steps, 
with  her  hands  at  her  hair.  "Well — I  'm  embarked — 
fairly  under  way  ! ' '  she  said,  in  clear-cut,  almost  provoca 
tive  tones. 

"  I  don't  at  all  know  what  to  say,"  her  companion 
replied,  slowly.  "  I  fancy  that  you  exaggerate  my  dis 
approval.  Perhaps  it  ought  not  even  to  be  called  disap 
proval  at  all.  It  is  only  that  I  am  puzzled — and  a  little 
frightened." 

"  Oh,  I  am  frightened  too,"  said  the  other,  but  with 
eagerness  rather  than  trepidation  in  her  voice.  '  That  is 
why  I  did  not  give  you  the  signal  to  leave  us  alone.  I 
could  n't  quite  get  up  the  nerve  for  it.  But  would  you 
believe  it  ? — that  is  one  of  the  charms  of  the  thing.  There 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  273 

is  an  excitement  about  it  that  exhilarates  me.  To  get 
happiness  through  terror — you  can't  understand  that,  can 
you  ? ' ' 

"  I  'm  trying.  I  think  I  'm  beginning  to  understand," 
said  Miss  Madden,  vaguely. 

"  Did  you  ever  set  yourself  to  comprehending  why 
Marie  Stuart  married  Bothwell  ?  "  asked  Edith,  looking 
down  upon  the  other  with  illuminating  fixity.  "  You 
have  it  all — all  there.  Marie  got  tired  of  the  smooth 
people,  the  usual  people.  There  was  the  promise  of  ad 
venture,  and  risk,  and  peril,  and  the  grand  emotions  with 
the  big,  dark  brute." 

"  It  is  n't  a  happy  story — this  parallel  that  you  pick 
out,"  commented  Celia,  absently. 

"  Happy  !  Pah  !  "  retorted  Edith,  with  spirit.  "  Who 
knows  if  it  was  n't  the  only  really  happy  thing  in  her 
life  ?  The  snobs  and  prigs  all  scold  her  and  preach 
sermons  at  her — they  did  it  in  her  lifetime  :  they  do  it 
now ' ' 

"  Oh  come,  I  'm  neither  a  snob  nor  a  prig,"  put  in 
Celia,  looking  up  in  her  turn,  and  tempering  with  a  smile 
the  energy  of  her  tone — "  I  don't  blame  her  for  her  Both- 
well  ;  I  don't  criticize  her.  I  never  was  even  able  to  mind 
about  her  killing  Darnley.  You  see  I  take  an  extremely 
liberal  view.  One  might  almost  call  it  broad.  But  if  I 
had  been  one  of  her  ladies — her  bosom  friends— say  Cathe 
rine  Seton — and  she  had  talked  with  me  about  it — I  think 
I  should  have  confessed  to  some  forebodings — some  little 
misgivings." 

' '  And  do  you  know  what  she  would  have  said  ?  ' ' 
Edith's  swift  question,  put  with  a  glowing  face  and  a  con 
fident  voice,  had  in  it  the  ring  of  assured  triumph.  "  She 
would  have  answered  you  :  '  My  dearest  girl,  all  my  life 
I  have  done  what  other  people  told  me  to  do.  In  my 

18 


2/4  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

childhood  I  was  given  in  marriage  to  a  criminal  idiot. 
In  my  premature  widowhood  I  was  governed  by  a  com 
mittee  of  scoundrels  of  both  sexes  until  another  criminal 
idiot  was  imposed  upon  me  as  a  second  husband.  My 
own  personality  has  never  had  the  gleam  of  a  chance.  I 
have  never  yet  done  any  single  thing  because  I  wanted 
to  do  it.  Between  first  my  politician-mother  and  her  band 
of  tonsured  swindlers,  and  then  my  cantankerous  brother 
and  his  crew  of  snarling  and  sour-minded  preachers,  and 
all  the  court  liars  and  parasites  and  spies  that  both  sides 
surrounded  me  with,  I  have  lived  an  existence  that  is  n't 
life  at  all.  I  purport  to  be  a  woman,  but  I  have  never 
been  suffered  to  see  a  genuine  man.  And  now  here  is 
one — or  what  I  think  to  be  one — and  I  'm  given  to  under 
stand  that  he  is  a  pirate  and  a  murderer  and  an  unspeak 
able  ruffian  generally — but  he  takes  my  fancy,  and  he  has 
beckoned  to  me  to  come  to  him,  and  so  you  will  kindly 
get  me  my  hat  and  jacket  and  gloves.'  That 's  what  she 
would  have  said  to  you,  my  dear." 

"  And  I  " — said  Celia,  rising  after  a  moment's  pause*, 
and  putting  her  hand  upon  Kdith's  arm — "  I  would  have 
answered,  *  Dearest  lady,  in  whatever  befalls,  I  pray  you 
never  to  forget  that  I  am  to  the  end  your  fond  and  devoted 
and  loyal  servant.'  " 


CHAPTER  XIX 

AUGUST  wore  itself  out  in  parched  tedium,  and  a  Sep 
tember  began  which  seemed  even  more  unbearable 
in  town, — and  still  Thorpe  did  not  get  away  from  London. 
So  far  as  the  payment  of  an  exorbitant  rent  in  advance, 
and  the  receipt  of  innumerable  letters  from  a  restless  and 
fussy  steward  whom  he  had  not  yet  seen,  went  as  evidence, 
he  knew  himself  to  be  the  tenant  in  possession  of  a  great 
shooting  in  Morayshire.  He  had  several  photographs  of 
what  was  called  the  lodge,  but  looked  like  something  be 
tween  a  mansion  and  a  baronial  castle,  on  the  mantel  of 
the  Board  Room.  The  reflection  that  this  sumptuous 
residence  had  been  his  for  a  month,  and  that  it  daily  stood 
waiting  for  him,  furnished  and  swept  and  provisioned  for 
his  coming,  did  nothing  to  help  the  passing  of  time  in  the 
hot,  fagged  City.  More  than  once  he  had  said  resolutely 
that,  on  the  morrow,  or  at  the  worst  the  next  day,  he 
would  go — but  in  the  event  he  had  not  gone.  In  the  last 
week  of  August  he  had  proceeded  to  the  length  of  sending 
his  niece  and  nephew  Northward,  and  shutting  up  the 
house  in  Ovington  Square,  and  betaking  himself  to  the 
Savoy  Hotel.  This  had  appeared  at  the  time  to  be  almost 
equivalent  to  his  getting  away  himself, — to  be  at  least  a 
first  stage  in  the  progress  of  his  own  journey.  But  at  the 
hotel  he  had  stuck  fast, — and  now,  on  the  tenth  of  Sep 
tember,  was  no  nearer  the  moors  and  the  deer-forest  than 
he  had  been  a  month  before. 

j   A  novel  sense  of  loneliness, — of  the  fatuity  of  present 

275 


276  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

existence, — weighed  grievously  upon  him.  The  ladies 
of  Grafton  Street  had  left  town  upon  a  comprehensive 
itinerary  of  visits  which  included  the  Malvern  country, 
and  a  ducal  castle  in  Shropshire,  and  a  place  in  West 
moreland.  There  was  nothing  very  definite  about  the 
date  of  their  coming  to  him  in  Scotland.  The  lady  who 
had  consented  to  marry  him  had,  somehow,  omitted  to 
promise  that  she  would  write  to  him.  An  arrangement 
existed,  instead,  by  which  she  and  his  niece  Julia  were  to 
correspond,  and  to  fix  between  themselves  the  details  of 
the  visit  to  Morayshire. 

Thorpe  hardly  went  to  the  point  of  annoyance  with 
this  arrangement.  He  was  conscious  of  no  deep  impulse 
to  write  love-letters  himself,  and  there  was  nothing  in  the 
situation  which  made  his  failure  to  receive  love-letters 
seem  unnatural.  The  absence  of  moonshine,  at  least 
during  this  preliminary  season,  had  been  quite  taken  for 
granted  between  them,  and  he  did  not  complain  even  to 
himself.  There  was  even  a  kind  of  proud  satisfaction  for 
him  in  the  thought  that,  though  he  had  all  but  completed 
the  purchase  of  the  noble  Pellesley  estate  for  Edith  Cres- 
sage,  he  had  never  yet  kissed  her.  The  reserve  he  im 
posed  upon  himself  gave  him  a  certain  aristocratic  fineness 
in  his  own  eyes.  It  was  the  means  by  which  he  could 
feel  himself  to  be  most  nearly  her  equal.  But  he  remained 
very  lonely  in  London,  none  the  less. 

It  is  true  that  a  great  deal  of  society  was  continually 
offered  to  him,  and  even  thrust  upon  him.  In  the  popular 
phrase,  London  was  empty,  but  there  seemed  to  be  more 
people  than  ever  who  desired  Mr.  Stormont  Thorpe's 
presence  at  their  dinner-tables,  or  their  little  theatre  or 
card  or  river  parties.  He  clung  sullenly  to  his  rule  of 
going  nowhere,  but  it  was  not  so  simple  a  matter  to  evade 
the  civilities  and  importunities  of  those  who  were  stopping 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  277 

at  the  hotel,  or  who  came  there  to  waylay  him  at  the 
entrance,  or  to  encounter  him  in  the  restaurant.  He 
could  not  always  refuse  to  sit  down  at  tables  when  attract 
ively-dressed  and  vivacious  women  made  room  for  him, 
or  to  linger  over  cigars  and  wine  with  their  husbands  and 
escorts  later  on. 

An  incessant  and  spirited  court  was  paid  to  him  by 
many  different  groups  of  interested  people  who  were 
rarely  at  the  pains  to  dissemble  their  aims.  He  formed  a 
manner  for  the  reception  of  these  advances,  compounded 
of  joviality,  cynicism,  and  frank  brutality,  which  nobody, 
to  his  face  at  least,  resented.  If  women  winced  under  his 
mocking  rudenesses  of  speech  and  smile,  if  men  longed  to 
kill  him  for  the  cold  insolence  of  his  refusal  to  let  them 
inside  his  guard,  they  sedulously  kept  it  from  him.  The 
consciousness  that  everybody  was  afraid  of  him, — that 
everybody  would  kneel  to  him,  and  meekly  take  insult 
and  ignominy  from  him,  if  only  hope  remained  to  them 
of  getting  something  out  of  him, — hardened  like  a  crust 
upon  his  mind. 

It  was  impossible  to  get  a  sense  of  companionship  from 
people  who  cringed  to  him,  and  swallowed  his  affronts 
and  cackled  at  his  jokes  with  equal  docility.  Sometimes 
he  had  a  passing  amusement  in  the  rough  pleasantries 
and  cruelties  which  they  drew  from  him.  There  were 
two  or  three  bright  Jewish  women,  more  gayly  clever  and 
impudent,  perhaps,  than  beautiful,  with  whom  he  found 
it  genuine  fun  to  talk,  and  concerning  whom  he  was  per 
petually  conceiving  projects  which  could  not  have  been 
discussed  with  their  husbands,  and  as  perpetually  doing 
nothing  to  test  their  feasibility.  But  these  diversions 
were  in  their  essence  unsubstantial.  There  was  not  even 
the  semblance  of  a  real  friendship  among  them, — and  lone 
liness  became  an  increasing  burden. 


278  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

His  sister  at  the  old  book-shop  exasperated  him  nowa 
days  to  a  degree  which  often  provoked  within  him  the 
resolution  to  have  done  with  her.  He  had  a  score  of  pro- 
jects  for  her  betterment,  each  capable  of  as  many  varia 
tions  and  eager  adaptations  to  suit  her  fancy,  but  to  them 
all  and  sundry  she  opposed  a  barrier  of  stupidly  passive 
negation.  There  was  nothing  she  wanted  done  for  her. 
She  would  not  exchange  the  work  she  had  been  brought 
up  in  for  a  life  of  idleness.  She  did  riot  want,  and 
would  not  know  what  to  do  with,  a  bigger  shop  than  she 
had.  An  augmentation  of  her  capital  would  be  of  no  use, 
because  there  was  no  room  in  the  crowded  little  shop  for 
a  larger  stock  than  it  contained.  She  was  entirely  satis 
fied  with  the  dingy  home  overhead,  and  declined  to  think 
even  of  moving  elsewhere.  Over  and  over  again  she  met 
his  propositions  with  a  saying  which  he  could  recall  having 
particularly  hated  on  their  father's  lips, — "  It  's  ill  teach 
ing  an  old  dog  new  tricks." 

' '  You  ought  to  have  them  taught  you  with  a  stick, ' ' 
he  had  told  her  roundly,  on  the  last  occasion. 

She  had  merely  shrugged  her  gaunt  shoulders  at  him. 
"  You  think  you  can  bully  everybody  and  make  them 
crawl  to  you, — but  there  's  no  good  your  trying  it  on  with 
me,"  she  had  told  him,  and  he  had  pushed  his  way  out 
of  the  shop  almost  stamping  his  feet.  It  was  clear  to  him 
at  that  moment  that  he  would  never  darken  her  door 
again. 

Yet  now,  on  this  afternoon  of  the  tenth,  as  he  lounged 
with  a  cigar  and  a  City  paper  in  his  apartment  at  the  hotel 
after  luncheon,  wondering  whether  it  were  too  hot  to  issue 
forth  for  a  walk  to  the  Park,  the  irrelevant  idea  of  going 
round  to  see  his  sister  kept  coining  into  his  mind.  He 
seated  himself  and  fastened  his  attention  upon  the  paper, 
— but  off  it  slipped  again  to  the  old  book- shop,  and  to 


'*•   \ 


AN   OLD   MAN  .    .  .  HAD  BEEN  ALLOWED  TO  ENTER  THE  ROOM  UNANNOUNCED."— Page 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  279 

that  curious,  cross-grained  figure,  its  mistress.  He 
abandoned  himself  to  thinking  about  her — and  discovered 
that  a  certain  unique  quality  in  her  challenged  his  admira 
tion.  She  was  the  only  absolutely  disinterested  person  he 
knew — the  only  creature  in  the  world,  apparently,  who 
did  not  desire  to  make  something  out  of  him.  She  was 
not  at  all  well-off, — was  indeed  rather  poor  than  other 
wise, — and  here  was  her  only  brother  a  millionaire,  and 
in  her  dumb  way  she  had  a  sisterly  affection  for  him,  and 
yet  she  could  not  be  argued  or  cajoled  into  touching  a 
penny  of  his  money.  Surely  there  could  be  no  other 
woman  like  her. 

Thorpe  realized  that  it  was  a  distinction  to  have  such  a 
sister, — and  behind  this  thought  rose  obscurely  the  sug 
gestion  that  there  must  be  wonderful  blood  in  a  race 
which  had  produced  such  a  daughter.  And  for  that  mat 
ter,  such  a  son  too  !  He  lifted  his  head,  and  looked 
abstractedly  before  him,  as  if  he  were  gazing  at  some 
apotheosis  of  himself  in  a  mirror. 

He  beheld  all  at  once  something  concrete  and  personal, 
obtruded  into  the  heart  of  his  reverie,  the  sight  of  which 
dimly  astounded  him.  For  the  moment,  with  opened  lips 
he  stared  at  it, — then  slowly  brought  himself  to  compre 
hend  what  had  happened.  An  old  man  had  by  some  over 
sight  of  the  hotel  servants  been  allowed  to  enter  the  room 
unannounced.  He  had  wandered  in  noiselessly,  and  had 
moved  in  a  purblind  fashion  to  the  centre  of  the  apart 
ment.  The  vagueness  of  the  expression  on  his  face 
and  of  his  movements  hinted  at  a  vacant  mind  or  too 
much  drink, — but  Thorpe  gave  no  thought  to  either 
hypothesis.  The  face  itself — no — yes — it  was  the  face  of 
old  Tavender. 

"  In  the  name  of  God  !  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 
Thorpe  gasped  at  this  extraordinary  apparition.  Still 


28O  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

staring,  he  began  to  push  back  his  chair  and  put  his 
weight  upon  his  feet. 

"  Well — Thorpe  " — the  other  began,  thrusting  forward 
his  head  to  look  through  his  spectacles — "  so  it  is  you, 
after  all.  I  did  n't  know  whether  I  was  going  to  find  you 
or  not.  This  place  has  got  so  many  turns  and  twists  to 

:*. >  > 

* '  But  good  heavens  ! ' '  interposed  the  bewildered 
Thorpe.  He  had  risen  to  his  feet.  He  mechanically 
took  the  hand  which  the  other  had  extended  to  him. 
"  What  in  hell  " — he  began,  and  broke  off  again.  The 
aroma  of  alcohol  on  the  air  caught  his  sense,  and  his 
mind  stopped  at  the  perception  that  Tavender  was  more 
or  less  drunk.  He  strove  to  spur  it  forward,  to  compel 
it  to  encompass  the  meanings  of  this  new  crisis,  but  almost 
in  vain. 

11  Thought  I  'd  look  you  up,"  said  the  old  man,  buoy 
antly.  "  Nobody  in  London  I  'd  rather  see  than  you. 
How  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 

*  *  What  did  you  come  over  for  ?  When  did  you  get 
here?"  Thorpe  put  the  questions  automatically.  His 
self-control  was  returning  to  him  ;  his  capable  brain 
pushed  forward  now  under  something  like  disciplined 
direction. 

"  Why  I  guess  I  owe  it  all  to  you,"  replied  Tavender. 
Traces  of  the  old  Quaker  effect  which  had  been  so  char 
acteristic  of  him  still  hung  about  his  garb  and  mien,  but 
there  shone  a  new  assurance  on  his  benignant,  rubicund 
face.  Prosperity  had  visibly  liberalized  and  enheartened 
him.  He  shook  Thorpe's  hand  again.  '  Yes,  sir — it 
must  have  been  all  through  you  !  "  he  repeated.  "  I  got 
my  cable  three  weeks  ago — '  Hasten  to  London,  urgent 
business,  expenses  and  liberal  fee  guaranteed,  Rubber 
Consols ' — that  's  what  the  cable  said,  that  is,  the  first 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  28 1 

one — and  of  course  you  're  the  man  that  introduced  me  to 
those  rubber  people.  And  so  don't  you  see  I  owe  it  all 
to  you  ?  " 

His  insistence  upon  his  obligation  was  suddenly  almost 
tearful.  Thorpe  thought  hard  as  he  replied  :  "  Oh — 
that  's  all  right.  I  'm  very  glad  indeed  to  have  helped 
you  along.  And  so  you  came  over  for  the  Rubber  Consols 
people,  eh  ?  Well — that  's  good.  Seen  'em  yet  ?  You 
have  n't  told  me  when  you  landed." 

"  Came  up  from  Southampton  this  morning.  My 
brother-in-law  was  down  there  to  meet  me.  We  came  up 
to  London  together." 

"  Your  brother-in-law, "  observed  Thorpe,  meditatively. 
Some  shadowy,  remote  impression  of  having  forgotten 
something  troubled  his  mind  for  an  instant.  "  Is  your 
brother-in-law  in  the  rubber  business  ?  ' ' 

"Extraor'nary  thing,"  explained Tavender,  beamingly, 
"  he  don't  know  no  more  about  the  whole  affair  than  the 
man  'n  the  moon.  I  asked  him  today — but  he  could  n't 
tell  me  anything  about  the  business — what  it  was  I  'd  been 
sent  for,  or  anything." 

"  But  he— he  knew  you  'd  been  sent  for,"  Thorpe 
commented  upon  brief  reflection. 

' '  Why,  he  sent  the  second  cable  himself ' ' 

"What  second  cable?" 

"  Why  it  was  the  next  day, — or  maj^be  it  was  sent  that 
same  night,  and  not  delivered  till  morning, — I  got  an 
other  cable,  this  time  from  my  brother-in-law,  telling  me 
to  cable  him  what  ship  I  sailed  on  and  when.  So  of 
course  he  knew  all  about  it — but  now  he  says  he  don't. 
He  's  a  curious  sort  of  fellow,  anyway."  ** 

e  "  But  how  is  he  mixed  up  in  it  ?  "  demanded  Thorpe, 
impatiently. 

"  Well,  as  nearly  as  I  can  figure  it  out,  he  works  for  one 


282  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

of  the  men  that 's  at  the  head  of  this  rubber  company.  It 
appears  that  he  happened  to  show  this  man— he  's  a  man 
of  title,  by  the  way — a  letter  I  wrote  to  him  last  spring, 
when  I  got  back  to  Mexico — and  so  in  that  way  this  man, 
when  he  wanted  me  to  coine  over,  just  told  Gafferson  to 
cable  to  me." 

"  Gaflerson,"  Thorpe  repeated,  very  slowly,  and  with 
almost  an  effect  of  listlessness.  He  was  conscious  of  no 
surprise  ;  it  was  as  if  he  had  divined  all  along  the  sinister 
shadows  of  L,ord  Plowden  and  Lord  Plowden's  gardener, 
lurking  in  the  obscurity  behind  this  egregious  old  ass  of 
a  Tavender. 

"  He  's  a  tremendous  horticultural  sharp,"  said  the 
other.  "  Probably  you  've  heard  tell  of  him.  He  's 
taken  medals  for  new  flowers  and  things  till  you  can't 
rest.  He  's  over  at — what  do  you  call  it  ? — the  Royal 
Aquarium,  now,  to  see  the  Dahlia  Show.  I  went  over 
there  with  him,  but  it  did  n't  seem  to  be  my  kind  of  a 
show,  and  so  I  left  him  there,  and  I  'm  to  look  in  again 
for  him  at  5.30.  I  'm  going  down  to  his  place  in  the 
country  with  him  tonight,  to  meet  his  boss — the  noble 
man  I  spoke  of." 

"  That  's  nice,"  Thorpe  commented,  slowly.  "  I  envy 
anybody  who  can  get  into  the  country  these  days.  But 
how  did  you  know  I  was  here  ?  ' ' 

"  The  woman  in  the  book-store  told  me — I  went  there 
the  first  thing.  You  might  be  sure  I  'd  look  you  up. 
Nobody  was  ever  a  better  friend  than  you  've  been  to  me, 
Thorpe.  And  do  you  know  what  I  want  you  to  do  ?  I 
want  you  to  come  right  bang  out,  now,  and  have  a  drink 
with  me." 

"  I  was  thinking  of  something  of  the  sort  myself,"  the 
big  man  replied.  "  I  '11  get  my  hat,  and  be  with  you  in 
a  minute. ' ' 


THE  MARKET-PLACE  283 

In  the  next  room  he  relinquished  his  countenance  to  a 
frown  of  fierce  perplexity.  More  than  a  minute  passed  in 
this  scowling  preoccupation.  Then  his  face  lightened 
with  the  relief  of  an  idea,  and  he  stepped  confidently  back 
into  the  parlour. 

"  Come  along,"  he  said,  jovially.  "  We  '11  have  a 
drink  downstairs,  and  then  we  '11  drive  up  to  Hanover 
Square  and  see  if  we  can't  find  a  friend  of  mine  at  his 
club." 

In  the  office  below  he  stopped  long  enough  to  secure  a 
considerable  roll  of  bank-notes  in  exchange  for  a  cheque. 
A  little  later,  a  hansom  deposited  the  couple  at  the  door 
of  the  Asian  Club,  and  Thorpe,  in  the  outer  hallway  of 
this  institution,  clicked  his  teeth  in  satisfaction  at  the  news 
that  General  Kervick  was  on  the  premises. 

The  General,  having  been  found  by  a  boy  and  brought 
down,  extended  to  his  guests  a  hospitality  which  was  none 
the  less  urbane  for  the  evidences  of  surprise  with  which  it 
was  seasoned.  He  concealed  so  indifferently  his  inability 
to  account  for  Tavender,  that  the  anxious  Thorpe  grew 
annoyed  with  him,  but  happily  Tavender's  perceptions 
were  less  subtle.  He  gazed  about  him  in  his  dim-eyed 
way  with  childlike  interest,  and  babbled  cheerfully  over 
his  liquor.  He  had  not  been  inside  a  L,ondon  club  before, 
and  his  glimpse  of  the  reading-room,  where,  isolated, 
purple-faced,  retired  old  Empire-makers  sat  snorting  in 
the  silence,  their  gouty  feet  propped  up  on  foot-rests,  their 
white  brows  scowling  over  the  pages  of  French  novels, 
particularly  impressed  him.  It  was  a  new  and  halcyon 
vision  of  the  way  to  spend  one's  declining  years.  And 
the  big  smoking-room — where  the  leather  cushions  were 
so  low  and  so  soft,  and  the  connection  between  the  bells 
and  the  waiters  was  so  efficient — that  was  even  better. 

Thorpe  presently  made  an  excuse  for  taking  Kervick 


284  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

apart.  "  I  brought  this  old  jackass  here  for  a  purpose," 
he  said  in  low,  gravely  mandatory  tones.  "  He  thinks 
he  's  got  an  appointment  at  5.30  this  afternoon — but  he  's 
wrong.  He  has  n't.  He  's  not  going  to  have  any  ap 
pointment  at  all — for  a  long  time  yet.  I  want  you  to  get 
him  drunk,  there  where  he  sits,  and  then  take  him  away 
with  you,  and  get  him  drunker  still,  and  then  take  a  train 
with  him  somewhere — any  station  but  Charing  Cross  or 
that  line — and  I  don't  care  where  you  land  with  him — 
Scotland  or  Ireland  or  France — whatever  you  like. 
Here  's  some  money  for  you — and  you  can  write  to  me 
for  more.  I  don't  care  what  you  say  to  him — make  up 
any  yarn  you  like — only  keep  him  pacified,  and  keep  him 
away  from  L,ondon,  and  don't  let  a  living  soul  talk  to  him 
— till  I  give  you  the  word.  You  '11  let  me  know 
where  you  are.  I  '11  get  away  now — and  mind,  General, 
a  good  deal  depends  on  the  way  you  please  me  in  this 
thing." 

The  soldier's  richly-florid  face  and  intent,  bulging  blue 
eyes  expressed  vivid  comprehension.  He  nodded  with 
eloquence  as  he  slipped  the  notes  into  his  trousers  pocket. 
"  Absolutely,"  he  murmured  with  martial  brevity,  from 
under  his  white,  tight  moustache. 

With  only  a  vague  word  or  two  of  meaningless  ex 
planation  to  Tavender,  Thorpe  took  his  departure,  and 
walked  back  to  the  hotel.  From  what  he  had  learned 
and  surmised,  it  was  not  difficult  to  put  the  pieces  of  the 
puzzle  together.  This  ridiculous  old  fool,  he  remembered 
now,  had  reproached  himself,  when  he  was  in  England  be 
fore,  for  his  uncivil  neglect  of  his  brother-in-law.  By 
some  absurd  chance,  this  damned  brother-in-law  happened 
to  be  GafFerson.  It  was  clear  enough  that,  when  he  re 
turned  to  Mexico,  Tavender  had  written  to  GafTerson, 
explaining  the  unexpected  pressure  of  business  which  had 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  285 

taken  up  all  his  time  in  England.  Probably  he  had  been 
idiot  enough  to  relate  what  he  of  course  regarded  as  the 
most  wonderful  piece  of  good  news — how  the  worthless 
concession  he  had  been  deluded  into  buying  had  been 
bought  back  from  him.  As  likely  as  not  he  had  even 
identified  the  concession,  and  given  Thorpe's  name  as 
that  of  the  man  who  had  first  impoverished  and  then 
mysteriously  enriched  him.  At  all  events,  he  had  clearly 
mentioned  that  he  had  a  commission  to  report  upon  the 
Rubber  Consols  property,  and  had  said  enough  else  to 
create  the  impression  that  there  were  criminal  secrets  con 
nected  with  its  sale  to  the  London  Company.  The  rest 
was  easy.  Gafferson,  knowing  Lord  Plowden's  relation 
to  the  Company,  had  shown  him  Tavender's  letter.  Lord 
Plowden,  meditating  upon  it,  had  seen  a  way  to  be  nasty 
—and  had  vindictively  plunged  into  it.  He  had  brought 
Ta vender  from  Mexico  to  London,  to  use  him  as  a  weapon. 
All  this  was  as  obvious  as  the  nose  on  one's  face. 

But  a  weapon  for  what  ?  Thorpe,  as  this  question  put 
itself  in  his  mind,  halted  before  a  shop- window  full  of  soft- 
hued  silk  fabrics,  to  muse  upon  an  answer.  The  delicate 
tints  and  surfaces  of  what  was  before  his  eyes  seemed 
somehow  to  connect  themselves  with  the  subject.  Plow- 
den  himself  was  delicately- tin  ted  and  refined  of  texture. 
Vindictiveuess  was  too  plain  and  coarse  an  emotion  to 
sway  such  a  complicated  and  polished  organism.  He 
reasoned  it  out,  as  he  stood  with  lack-lustre  gaze  before 
the  plate-glass  front,  aloof  among  a  throng  of  eager  and 
talkative  women  who  pressed  around  him — that  Plowden 
would  not  have  spent  his  money  on  a  mere  impulse  of 
mischief-making.  He  would  be  counting  upon  something 
more  tangible  than  revenge — something  that  could  be 
counted  and  weighed  and  converted  into  a  bank-balance. 
He  smiled  when  he  reached  this  conclusion — greatly  sur- 


286  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

prising  and  confusing  a  matronly  lady  into  whose  correct 
face  he  chanced  to  be  looking  at  the  instant — and  turning 
slowly,  continued  his  walk. 

At  the  office  of  the  hotel,  he  much  regretted  not  having 
driven  instead,  for  he  learned  that  Semple  had  twice  tele 
phoned  from  the  City  for  him.  It  was  late  in  the  after 
noon — he  noted  with  satisfaction  that  the  clock  showed  it 
to  be  already  past  the  hour  of  the  Tavender-Gafferson 
appointment, — but  he  had  Semple 's  office  called  up,  upon 
the  chance  that  someone  might  be  there.  The  clerk  had 
not  consumed  more  than  ten  minutes  in  the  preliminaries 
of  finding  out  that  no  one  was  there — Thorpe  meanwhile 
passing  savage  comments  to  the  other  clerks  about  the 
British  official  conception  of  the  telephone  as  an  instru 
ment  of  discipline  and  humiliation — when  Semple  himself 
appeared  in  the  doorway. 

The  Broker  gave  an  exclamation  of  relief  at  seeing 
Thorpe,  and  then,  apparently  indifferent  to  the  display  of 
excitement  he  was  exhibiting,  drew  him  aside. 

' '  Come  somewhere  where  we  can  talk, ' '  he  whispered 
nervously. 

Thorpe  had  never  seen  the  little  Scotchman  in  such  a 
flurry.  "  We  '11  go  up  to  my  rooms,"  he  said,  and  led 
the  way  to  the  lift. 

Upstairs,  Semple  bolted  the  door  of  the  sitting-room  be 
hind  them,  and  satisfied  himself  that  there  was  no  one  in 
the  adjoining  bedroom.  Then,  unburdening  himself  with 
another  sigh,  he  tossed  aside  his  hat,  and  looked  keenly 
up  at  the  big  man.  "  There  's  the  devil  to  pay,"  he  said 
briefly. 

Thorpe  had  a  fleeting  pride  in  the  lethargic,  composed 
front  he  was  able  to  present.  "  All  right,"  he  said  with 
forced  placidity,  "If  he 's  got  to  be  paid,  we  '11  pay  him," 
He  continued  to  smile  9,  Uttite. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  287 

"  It 's  nah  joke,"  the  other  hastened  to  warn  him.  "  I 
have  it  from  two  different  quarters.  An  application  has 
been  made  to  the  Stock  Exchange  Committee,  this  after 
noon,  to  intervene  and  stop  our  business,  on  the  ground 
of  fraud.  It  comes  verra  straight  to  me. ' ' 

Thorpe  regarded  his  Broker  contemplatively.  The  news 
fitted  with  precision  into  what  he  had  previously  known  ; 
it  was  rendered  altogether  harmless  by  the  precautions  he 
had  already  taken.  "  Well,  keep  your  hair  on,"  he  said, 
quietly.  "  If  there  were  fifty  applications,  they  would  n't 
matter  the  worth  of  that  soda-water  cork.  Won't  you 
have  a  drink  ?  ' ' 

Semple,  upon  reflection,  said  he  would.  The  unmoved 
equipoise  of  the  big  man  visibly  reassured  him.  He  sipped 
at  his  bubbling  tumbler  and  smacked  his  thin  lips. 
"  Man,  I  've  had  an  awful  fright,"  he  said  at  last,  in  the 
tone  of  one  whose  ease  of  mind  is  returning. 

"  I  gave  you  credit  for  more  nerve,"  observed  the 
other,  eyeing  him  in  not  unkindly  fashion  over  his  glass. 
"  You  've  been  so  plumb  full  of  sand  all  the  while— I 
did  n't  think  you  'd  weaken  now.  Why,  we  're  within 
two  days  of  home,  now — and  for  you  to  get  rattled  at  this 
late  hour — you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself. ' ' 

The  Scotchman  looked  into  the  bottom  of  his  glass,  as 
he  turned  it  thoughtfully  round.  "  I  'm  relieved  to  see 
the  way  you  take  it,"  he  said,  after  a  pause.  With  in 
creased  hesitation  he  went  dryly  on  :  "I  've  never  en 
quired  minutely  into  the  circumstances  of  the  flotation. 
It  has  not  seemed  to  be  my  business  to  do  so,  and  upon 
advice  I  may  say  that  the  Committee  would  not  hold  that 
such  was  my  business.  My  position  is  quite  clear,  upon 
that  point." 

"  Oh,  perfectly,"  Thorpe  assented.  "  It  could  n't  pos 
sibly  be  any  of  your  business — either  then,  or  now."  He 


288  THF   MARKET-PLACE 

gave  a  significant  touch  of  emphasis  to  these  last  two 
words. 

"  Precisely,"  said  Semple,  with  a  glance  of  swift  com 
prehension.  "  You  must  not  think  I  am  asking  any  in 
trusive  questions.  If  you  tell  me  that — that  there  is  no 
ground  for  uneasiness — I  am  verra  pleased  indeed  to  ac 
cept  the  assurance.  That  is  ample  information  for  my 
purposes. ' ' 

"  You  can  take  it  from  me,"  Thorpe  told  him.  He 
picked  up  a  red  book  from  a  side  table,  and  turned  over 
its  pages  with  his  thick  thumb.  "This  is  what  Rule 
59  says,"  he  went  on  :  "  '  No  application  which  has  for  its 
object  to  annul  any  bargain  in  the  Stock  Exchange  shall  be 
entertained  by  the  Committee,  unless  upon  a  specific  allega 
tion  of  fraud  or  wilful  misrepresentation.^  Shall  be  enter 
tained,  d'  ye  see  ?  They  can't  even  consider  anything  of 
the  sort,  because  it  says  '  specific,'  and  I  tell  you  plainly 
that  anything  *  specific '  is  entirely  out  of  the  question." 

The  Broker  lifted  his  sandy  brows  in  momentary  appre 
hension.  "  If  it  turns  upon  the  precise  definition  of  a 
word,"  he  remarked,  doubtingly. 

"  Ah,  yes, — but  it  does  n't,"  Thorpe  reassured  him. 
"  See  here — I  '11  tell  you  something.  You  're  not  asking 
any  questions.  That 's  as  it  should  be.  And  I  'm  not 
forcing  information  upon  you  which  you  don't  need  in 
your  business.  That  's  as  it  should  be,  too.  But  in  be 
tween  these  two,  there  's  a  certain  margin  of  facts  that 
there  's  no  harm  in  your  knowing.  A  scheme  to  black 
mail  me  is  on  foot.  It  's  rather  a  fool-scheme,  if  you  ask 
me,  but  it  might  have  been  a  nuisance  if  it  had  been 
sprung  on  us  unawares.  It  happened,  however,  that  I 
twigged  this  scheme  about  two  hours  ago.  It  was  the 
damnedest  bit  of  luck  you  ever  heard  of " 

11  You  don't  have  luck,"  put  in  Semple,  appreciatively. 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  289 

"  Other  men  have  luck.  You  have  something  else — I 
don't  give  it  a  name." 

Thorpe  smiled  upon  him,  and  went  on.  "  I  twigged  it, 
anyway.  I  went  out,  and  I  drove  the  biggest  kind  of 
spike  through  that  fool-scheme — plumb  through  its  heart. 
Tomorrow  a  certain  man  will  come  to  me — oh,  I  could 
almost  tell  you  the  kind  of  neck- tie  he  '11  wear — and  he  '11 
put  up  his  bluff  to  me,  and  I '  11  hear  him  out — and  then — 
then  I  '11  let  the  floor  drop  out  from  under  him." 

"  Aye  !  "  said  Semple,  with  relish. 

"  Stay  and  dine  with  me  tonight,"  Thorpe  impulsively 
suggested,  "  and  we  '11  go  to  some  Music  Hall  after 
ward.  There  's  a  knock- about  pantomime  outfit  at  the 
Canterbury — Martinetti  I  think  the  name  is — that  's 
damned  good.  You  get  plenty  of  laugh,  and  no  tiresome 
blab  to  listen  to.  The  older  I  get,  the  more  I  think  of 
people  that  keep  their  mouths  shut. ' ' 

' '  Aye, ' '  observed  Semple  again. 
19 


CHAPTER   XX 

IN  the  Board  Room,  next  day,  Thorpe  awaited  the 
coming  of  Lord  Plowden  with  the  serene  confidence 
of  a  prophet  who  not  only  knows  that  he  is  inspired,  but 
has  had  an  illicit  glimpse  into  the  workings  of  the 
machinery  of  events. 

He  sat  motionless  at  his  desk,  like  a  big  spider  for  whom 
time  has  no  meaning.  Before  him  lay  two  newspapers, 
folded  so  as  to  expose  paragraphs  heavily  indicated  by 
blue  pencil-marks.  They  were  not  financial  journals,  and 
for  that  reason  it  was  improbable  that  he  would  have  seen 
these  paragraphs,  if  the  Secretary  of  the  Company  had 
not  marked  them,  and  brought  them  to  him.  That  official 
had  been  vastly  more  fluttered  by  them  than  he  found  it 
possible  to  be.  In  slightly-varying  language,  these  two 
items  embedded  in  so-called  money  articles  reported  the 
rumour  that  a  charge  of  fraud  had  arisen  in  connection 
with  the  Rubber  Consols  corner,  and  that  sensational  dis 
closures  were  believed  to  be  impending. 

Thorpe  looked  with  a  dulled,  abstracted  eye  at  these 
papers,  lying  on  the  desk,  and  especially  at  the  blue 
pencil-lines  upon  them,  as  he  pondered  many  things. 
Their  statement,  thus  scattered  broadcast  to  the  public, 
seemed  at  once  to  introduce  a  new  element  into  the  situa 
tion,  and  to  leave  it  unchanged.  That  influence  of  some 
sort  had  been  exerted  to  get  this  story  into  these  papers, 
it  did  not  occur  to  him  for  an  instant  to  doubt.  To  his 
view,  all  things  that  were  put  into  papers  were  put  there 

290 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  2$l 

for  a  purpose — it  would  express  his  notion  more  clearly, 
perhaps,  to  say  for  a  price.  Of  the  methods  of  Fleet 
Street,  he  was  profoundly  ignorant,  but  his  impressions 
of  them  were  all  cynical.  Upon  reflection,  however,  it 
seemed  unlikely  to  him  that  Lord  Plowden  had  secured 
the  insertion  of  these  rumours.  So  far  as  Thorpe  could 
fathom  that  nobleman's  game,  its  aims  would  not  be 
served  by  premature  publicity  of  this  kind. 

Gradually,  the  outlines  of  a  more  probable  combination 
took  shape  in  his  thoughts.  There  were  left  in  the  grip 
of  the  "  corner  "  now  only  two  victims, — Rostocker  and 
Aronson.  They  owed  this  invidious  differentiation  to  a 
number  of  causes  :  they  had  been  the  chief  sellers  of  stock, 
being  between  them  responsible  for  the  delivery  of  8,500 
Rubber  Consols  shares,  which  they  could  not  get  ;  they 
were  men  of  larger  fortune  than  the  other  "  shorts,"  and 
therefore  could  with  safety  be  squeezed  longest  ;  what 
was  fortunate  for  him  under  the  circumstances,  they  were 
the  two  men  against  whom  Thorpe's  personal  grudge 
seemed  able  to  maintain  itself  most  easily. 

For  these  reasons,  they  had  already  been  mulcted  in 
differences  to  the  extent  of,  in  round  numbers,  ^165,000. 
On  the  morrow,  the  twelfth  of  September,  it  was  Thorpe's 
plan  to  allow  them  to  buy  in  the  shares  they  needed,  at 
£22  or  ^23  per  share — which  would  take  from  them 
nearly  ,£200,000  more.  He  had  satisfied  himself  that 
they  could,  and  would  if  necessary,  pay  this  enormous 
ransom  for  their  final  escape  from  the  "  corner."  Partly 
because  it  was  not  so  certain  that  they  could  pay  more, 
partly  because  he  was  satiated  with  spoils  and  tired  of  the 
strain  of  the  business,  he  had  decided  to  permit  this 
escape. 

He  realized  now,  however,  that  they  on  their  side  had 
planned  to  escape  without  paying  any  final  ransom  at  all. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE 

That  was  clearly  the  meaning  of  these  paragraphs,  and 
of  the  representations  which  had  yesterday  been  made  to 
the  Stock  Exchange  Committee.  He  had  additional 
knowledge  today  of  the  character  of  these  representations. 
Nothing  definite  had  been  alleged,  but  some  of  the  mem 
bers  of  the  Committee  had  been  informally  notified,  so 
Semple  had  this  morning  learned,  that  a  specific  charge 
of  fraud,  supported  by  unanswerable  proof,  was  to  be 
brought  against  the  Rubber  Consols  management  on  the 
morrow.  Thorpe  reasoned  out  now,  step  by  step,  what 
that  meant.  L,ord  Plowden  had  sought  out  Rostocker 
and  Aronson,  and  had  told  them  that  he  had  it  in  his 
power  ignominiously  to  break  the  "  corner."  He  could 
hardly  have  told  them  the  exact  nature  of  his  power,  be 
cause  until  he  should  have  seen  Tavender  he  did  not 
himself  know  what  it  was.  But  he  had  given  them  to 
understand  that  he  could  prove  fraud,  and  they,  scenting 
in  this  the  chance  of  saving  ,£200,000,  and  seeing  that 
time  was  so  terribly  short,  had  hastened  to  the  Committee- 
men  with  this  vague  declaration  that,  on  the  morrow,  they 
could  prove — they  did  not  precisely  know  what.  Yes — 
plainly  enough — that  was  what  had  happened.  And  it 
would  be  these  two  Jew  "  wreckers,"  eager  to  invest 
their  speculative  notification  to  the  Committee  with  as 
much  of  an  air  of  formality  as  possible,  who  had  caused 
the  allusions  to  it  to  be  published  in  these  papers. 

Thorpe's  lustreless  eye  suddenly  twinkled  with  mirth 
as  he  reached  this  conclusion  :  his  heavy  face  brightened 
into  a  grin  of  delight.  A  vision  of  Lord  Plowden' s  ab 
surd  predicament  rose  vividly  before  him,  and  he  chuckled 
aloud  at  it. 

It  seemed  only  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
that,  at  this  instant,  a  clerk  should  open  the  door  and  nod 
with  meaning  to  the  master.  The  visitor  whom  he  had 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  293 

warned  the  people  in  the  outer  office  he  expected,  had 
arrived.  Thorpe  was  still  laughing  to  himself  when  Lord 
Plowden  entered. 

"  Hallo  !  How  d'  ye  do  !  "  he  called  out  to  him  from 
where  he  sat  at  his  desk. 

The  hilarity  of  the  manner  into  which  he  had  been  be 
trayed,  upon  the  instant  surprised  and  rather  confused 
him.  He  had  not  been  altogether  clear  as  to  how  he 
should  receive  Plowden,  but  certainly  a  warm  joviality 
had  not  occurred  to  him  as  appropriate. 

The  nobleman  was  even  more  taken  aback.  He  stared 
momentarily  at  the  big  man's  beaming  mask,  and  then, 
with  nervous  awkwardness,  executed  a  series  of  changes 
in  his  own  facial  expression  and  demeanour.  He  flushed 
red,  opened  his  lips  to  say  "  Ah  !  "  and  then  twisted  them 
into  a  doubting  and  seemingly  painful  smile.  He  looked 
with  very  bright-eyed  intentness  at  Thorpe,  as  he 
advanced,  and  somewhat  spasmodically  put  out  his 
hand. 

It  occurred  to  Thorpe  not  to  see  this  hand.  "  How  are 
you  !  "  he  repeated  in  a  more  mechanical  voice,  and  with 
drew  his  smile. 

Lord  Plowden  fidgeted  on  his  feet  for  a  brief,  embar 
rassed  interval  before  the  desk,  and  then  dropped  into  a 
chair  at  its  side.  With  a  deliberate  effort  at  nonchalance, 
he  crossed  his  legs,  and  caressed  the  ankle  on  his  knee 
with  a  careless  hand.  "  Anything  new  ?  "  he  asked. 

Thorpe  lolled  back  in  his  arm-chair.  "  I  'm  going  to 
be  able  to  get  away  in  a  few  days'  time,"  he  said,  in 
differently.  "  I  expect  to  finally  wind  up  the  business 
on  the  Stock  Exchange  tomorrow." 

"  Ah — yes,"  commented  Plowden,  vacantly.  He 
seemed  to  be  searching  after  thoughts  which  had  wan 
dered  astray.  ' '  Yes — of  course. ' ' 


294  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

' '  Yes — of  course, ' '  Thorpe  said  after  him,  with  a  latent 
touch  of  significance. 

The  other  looked  up  quickly,  then  glanced  away  again. 
*'  It  's  all  going  as  you  expected,  is  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

' '  Better  than  I  expected, ' '  Thorpe  told  him,  energetic 
ally.  "  Much  better  than  anybody  expected." 

"  Hah  !  "  said  Plowden.  After  a  moment's  reflection 
he  went  on  hesitatingly :  ' '  I  did  n'  t  know.  I  saw  some 
thing  in  one  of  the  papers  this  morning, — one  of  the  money 
articles, — which  spoke  as  if  there  were  some  doubt  about 
the  result.  That 's  why  I  called." 

"  Well — it 's  damned  good  of  you  to  come  round,  and 
show  such  a  friendly  interest."  Thorpe's  voice  seemed 
candid  enough,  but  there  was  an  enigmatic  something  in 
his  glance  which  aroused  the  other's  distrust. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  don't  take  very  much  stock  in  the 
'  friendly  interest,'  "  he  said,  with  a  constrained  little 
laugh. 

"  I  'm  not  taking  stock  in  anything  new  just  now," 
replied  Thorpe,  lending  himself  lazily  to  the  other's 
metaphor.  "  I  'm  loaded  up  to  the  gunnels  already." 

A  minute  of  rather  oppressive  silence  ensued.  Then 
Plowden  ventured  upon  an  opening.  "  All  the  same,  it 
was  with  an  idea  of, — perhaps  being  of  use  to  you, — that  I 
came  here,"  he  affirmed. 

11  In  what  way  ?  "  Thorpe  put  the  query  almost  list 
lessly. 

Lord  Plowden  turned  his  hands  and  let  his  dark  eyes 
sparkle  in  a  gesture  of  amiable  uncertainty.  '  That  de 
pended  upon  what  was  needed.  I  got  the  impression  that 
you  were  in  trouble — the  paper  spoke  as  if  there  were  no 
doubt  of  it — and  I  imagined  that  quite  probably  you  would 
be  glad  to  talk  with  me  about  it." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  Thorpe.     "  So  I  should." 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  295 

This  comprehensive  assurance  seemed  not,  however,  to 
facilitate  conversation.  The  nobleman  looked  at  the  pat 
tern  of  the  sock  on  the  ankle  he  was  nursing,  and  knitted 
his  brows  in  perplexity.  "  What  if  the  Committee  of 
the  Stock  Exchange  decide  to  interfere  ?  "  he  asked  at 
last. 

"Oh,  that  would  knock  me  sky-high,"  Thorpe  ad 
mitted. 

"  Approximately,  how  much  may  one  take  '  sky-high  ' 
to  mean  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  appeared  to  calculate.  "  Almost  anything  up 
to  a  quarter  of  a  million,"  he  answered. 

"  Hah!  "  said  Lord  Plowden  again.  "  Well — I  under 
stand — I  'm  given  to  understand — that  very  likely  that  is 
what  the  Committee  will  decide. ' ' 

1 '  Does  it  say  that  in  the  papers  ?  ' '  asked  Thorpe.  He 
essayed  an  effect  of  concern.  ' '  Where  did  you  see  that  ?  ' ' 

"  I  did  n't  see  it,"  the  other  explained.  "  It — it  came 
to  me." 

"  God  !  "  said  Thorpe.  "  That  '11  be  awful  !  But  are 
you  really  in  earnest  ?  Is  that  what  you  hear  ?  And 
does  it  come  at  all  straight  ?  " 

Lord  Plowden  nodded  portentously.  "  Absolutely 
straight,"  he  said,  with  gravity. 

Thorpe,  after  a  momentary  stare  of  what  looked  like 
bewilderment,  was  seen  to  clutch  at  a  straw.  "  But  what 
was  it  you  were  saying  ?  "  he  demanded,  with  eagerness. 
"  You  talked  about  help — a  minute  ago.  Did  you  mean 
it  ?  Have  you  got  a  plan  ?  Is  there  something  that  you 
can  do?" 

Plowden  weighed  his  words.  "  It  would  be  necessary 
to  have  a  very  complete  understanding,"  he  remarked. 

$<  Whatever  you  like,"  exclaimed  the  other. 

"  Pardon  me — it  would  have  to  be  a  good  deal  more 


296  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

definite  than  that,"  Plowden  declared.  "  A  'burnt  child' 
— you  know." 

The  big  man  tapped  musingly  with  his  finger-nails  on 
the  desk.  "  We  won't  quarrel  about  that,"  he  said. 
"  But  what  I  'd  like  to  know  first, — you  need  n't  give 
anything  away  that  you  don't  want  to, — but  what 's  your 
plan  ?  You  say  that  they  've  got  me  in  a  hole,  and  that 
you  can  get  me  out. ' ' 

1 '  In  effect— yes." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  that  I  can't  get  myself  out  ? 
What  do  you  know  about  the  whole  thing  anyway  ? 
Supposing  I  tell  you  that  I  laugh  at  it — that  there  's  no 
more  ground  for  raising  the  suspicion  of  fraud  than  there 
is  for — for  suspecting  that  you  've  got  wings  and  can  fly." 

"I—I  don't  think  you  '11  tell  me  that,"  said  Plowden, 
placidly. 

"  Well  then,  supposing  I  don't  tell  you  that,"  the  other 
resumed,  argumentatively.  "  Supposing  I  say  instead 
that  it  can't  be  proved.  If  the  Committee  does  n't  have 
proof  now, — within  twenty-one  or  twenty-two  hours, — 
they  can't  do  anything  at  all.  Tomorrow  is  settling  day. 
All  along,  I  've  said  I  would  wind  up  the  thing  tomorrow. 
The  market-price  has  been  made  for  me  by  the  jobbers 
yesterday  and  today.  I  'm  all  ready  to  end  the  whole 
business  tomorrow — close  it  all  out.  And  after  that  's 
done,  what  do  I  care  about  the  Stock  Exchange  Commit 
tee  ?  They  can  investigate  and  be  damned !  What  could 
they  do  to  me  ?  ' ' 

"  I  think  a  man  can  always  be  arrested  and  indicted, 
and  sent  to  penal  servitude,"  said  L,ord  Plowden,  with  a 
certain  solemnity  of  tone.  '  There  are  even  well-known 
instances  of  extradition." 

Thorpe  buried  his  chin  deep  in  his  collar,  and  regarded 
his  companion  with  a  fixed  gaze,  in  which  the  latter  de- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  297 

tected  signs  of  trepidation.  "  But  about  the  Committee — 
and  tomorrow,''  he  said  slowly.  "  What  do  you  say 
about  that  ?  How  can  they  act  in  that  lightning  fashion  ? 
And  even  if  proofs  could  be  got,  how  do  you  suppose  they 
are  to  be  got  on  the  drop  of  the  hat,  at  a  minute's  notice  ?  " 

; '  The  case  is  of  sufficient  importance  to  warrant  a  special 
meeting  tomorrow  morning,"  the  other  rejoined.  "  One 
hour's  notice,  posted  in  the  House,  is  sufficient,  I  believe. 
Any  three  members  of  the  Committee  can  call  such  a  meet 
ing,  and  I  understand  that  seven  make  a  quorum.  You 
will  see  that  a  meeting  could  be  held  at  noon  tomor 
row,  and  within  half  an  hour  could  make  you  a  ruined 
man." 

"  I  don't  know — would  you  call  it  quite  ruined  ?  "  com 
mented  Thorpe.  "  I  should  still  have  a  few  sovereigns 
to  go  on  with." 

' '  A  criminal  prosecution  would  be  practically  inevitable 
— after  such  a  disclosure,"  Plowden  reminded  him,  with 
augmented  severity  of  tone. 

"  Don't  mix  the  two  things  up,"  the  other  urged. 
There  seemed  to  the  listener  to  be  supplication  in  the 
voice.  "  It  's  the  action  of  the  Committee  that  you  said 
you  could  influence.  That 's  what  we  were  talking  about. 
You  say  there  will  be  a  special  meeting  at  noon  to 
morrow ' ' 

' '  I  said  there  could  be  one, ' '  Plowden  corrected  him. 

' '  All  right.  There  can  be  one.  And  do  you  say  that 
there  can  be  proof, — proof  against  me  of  fraud, — produced 
at  that  meeting?  " 

'  Yes — I  say  that,"  the  nobleman  affirmed,  quietly. 

* '  And  further  still — do  you  say  that  it  rests  with  you 
whether  that  proof  shall  be  produced  or  not  ?  ' ' 

Lord  Plowden  looked  into  the  impassive,  deep-eyed  gaze 
which  covered  him,  and  looked  away  from  it  again.  "  I 


298  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

have  n't  put  it  in  just  that  form,"  he  said,  hesitatingly. 
"  But  in  essentials — yes,  that  may  be  taken  as  true." 

'  *  And  what  is  your  figure  ?  How  much  do  you  want 
for  holding  this  proof  of  yours  back,  and  letting  me  finish 
scooping  the  money  of  your  Hebrew  friends  Aronson  and 
Rostocker?" 

The  peer  raised  his  head,  and  shot  a  keenly  enquiring 
glance  at  the  other.  * '  Are  they  my  friends  ?  "  he  asked, 
with  challenging  insolence. 

"  I  'm  bound  to  assume  that  you  have  been  dealing 
with  them,  just  as  you  are  dealing  with  me."  Thorpe 
explained  his  meaning  dispassionately,  as  if  the  trans 
action  were  entirely  commonplace.  "  You  tell  them 
that  you  're  in  a  position  to  produce  proof  against  me, 
and  ask  them  what  they  '11  give  for  it.  Then  naturally 
enough  you  come  to  me,  and  ask  what  I  '11  be  willing  to 
pay  to  have  the  proof  suppressed.  I  quite  understand 
that  I  must  bid  against  these  men — and  of  course  I  take  it 
for  granted  that,  since  you  know  their  figure,  you  've  ar 
ranged  in  your  mind  what  mine  is  to  be.  I  quite  under 
stand,  too,  that  I  am  to  pay  more  than  they  have  offered. 
That  is  on  account  of  '  friendly  interest. '  ' ' 

"  Since  you  allude  to  it,"  Lord  Plowden  observed,  with 
a  certain  calm  loftiness  of  tone,  "  there  is  no  harm  in  say 
ing  that  you  will  pay  something  on  that  old  score.  Once 
you  thrust  the  promise  of  something  like  a  hundred  thou 
sand  pounds  positively  upon  me.  You  insisted  on  my 
believing  it,  and  I  did  so,  like  a  fool.  I  came  to  you  to 
redeem  the  promise,  and  you  laughed  in  my  face.  Very 
well.  It  is  my  turn  now.  I  hold  the  whip-hand,  and  I 
should  be  an  ass  not  to  remember  things.  I  shall  want 
that  entire  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  from  you,  and 
fifty  thousand  added  to  it  '  on  account  of  the  friendly  in 
terest,'  as  you  so  intelligently  expressed  it." 


'WITHOUT  HESITATION,  WROTE  SEVERAL  LINES  RAPIDLY."—  Page  fQ^ 


THE  MARKET-PLACE  299 

Thorpe's  chin  burrowed  still  deeper  upon  his  breast. 
"  It 's  an  outrage, "  he  said  with  feeling.  Then  he  added, 
in  tones  of  dejected  resignation  :  "  When  will  you  want 
it?" 

"  At  the  moment  when  the  payments  of  Rostocker  and 
Aronson  are  made  to  you,  or  to  your  bankers  or  agents, ' ' 
Lord  Plowden  replied,  with  prepared  facility.  He  had 
evidently  given  much  thought  to  this  part  of  the  pro 
ceedings.  "  And  of  course  I  shall  expect  you  to  draw  up 
now  an  agreement  to  that  effect.  I  happen  to  have  a 
stamped  paper  with  me  this  time.  And  if  you  don't 
mind,  we  will  have  it  properly  witnessed — this  time." 

Thorpe  looked  at  him  with  a  disconcertingly  leaden 
stare,  the  while  he  thought  over  what  had  been  proposed. 
"  That  's  right  enough,"  he  announced  at  last,  "  but  I 
shall  expect  you  to  do  some  writing  too.  Since  we  're 
dealing  on  this  basis,  there  must  be  no  doubt  about  the 
guarantee  that  you  will  perform  your  part  of  the  contract." 

;<  The  performance  itself,  since  payment  is  conditional 
upon  it — "  began  Plowden,  but  the  other  interrupted 
him. 

"  No,  I  want  something  better  than  that.  Here — give 
me  your  stamped  paper."  He  took  the  bluish  sheet,  and, 
without  hesitation,  wrote  several  lines  rapidly.  "  Here — 
this  is  my  promise,"  he  said,  "  to  pay  you  ,£150,000,  upon 
your  satisfactory  performance  of  a  certain  undertaking  to 
be  separately  nominated  in  a  document  called  '  A,'  which 
we  will  jointly  draw  up  and  agree  to  and  sign,  and  deposit 
wherever  you  like— for  safe  keeping.  Now,  if  you  '11  sit 
here,  and  write  out  for  me  a  similar  thing — that  in  con 
sideration  of  my  promise  of  ,£150,000,  you  covenant  to 
perform  the  undertaking  to  be  nominated  in  the  document 
1  A  ' — and  so  on." 

Lord  Plowden  treated  as  a  matter  of  course  the  ready 


3OO  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

and  business-like  suggestion  of  the  other.  Taking  his 
place  at  the  desk  in  turn,  he  wrote  out  what  had  been 
suggested.  Thorpe  touched  a  bell,  and  the  clerk  who 
came  in  perfunctorily  attested  the  signatures  upon  both 
papers.  Each  principal  folded  and  pocketed  the  pledge 
of  the  other. 

"  Now,"  said  Thorpe,  when  he  had  seated  himself 
again  at  the  desk,  "  we  are  all  right  so  far  as  protection 
against  each  other  goes.  If  you  don't  mind,  I  will  draw 
up  a  suggestion  of  what  the  separate  document  '  A ' 
should  set  forth.  If  you  don't  like  it,  you  can  write  one. ' ' 

He  took  more  time  to  this  task,  frowning  laboriously 
over  the  fresh  sheet  of  foolscap,  and  screening  from  ob 
servation  with  his  hand  what  he  was  writing.  Finally, 
the  task  seemed  finished  to  his  mind.  He  took  up  the 
paper,  glanced  through  it  once  more,  and  handed  it  in 
silence  to  the  other. 

In  silence  also,  and  with  an  expression  of  arrested  at 
tention,  Lord  Plowden  read  these  lines  : 

"  The  undertaking  referred  to  in  the  two  documents  of  even 
date,  signed  respectively  by  Lord  Plowden  and  Stormont 
Thorpe,  is  to  the  effect  that  at  some  hour  between  eleven  A.M. 
and  three  P.M.  of  September  i2th,  instant,  Lord  Plowden  shall 
produce  before  a  special  meeting  of  the  Committee  of  the  Stock 
Exchange,  the  person  of  one  Jerome  P.  Tavender,  to  explain 
to  said  Committee  his  share  in  the  blackmailing  scheme  of 
which  Lord  Plowden,  over  his  own  signature,  has  furnished 
documentary  evidence" 

The  nobleman  continued  to  look  down  at  the  paper, 
after  the  power  to  hold  it  without  shaking  had  left  his 
hand.  There  came  into  his  face,  mingling  with  and 
vitiating  its  rich  natural  hues  of  health,  a  kind  of  grey 
shadow.  It  was  as  if  clay  was  revealing  itself  beneath 
faded  paint.  He  did  not  lift  his  eyes. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  3OI 

Thorpe  had  been  prepared  to  hail  this  consummation 
of  his  trick  with  boisterous  and  scornful  mirth.  Even 
while  the  victim  was  deciphering  the  fatal  paper,  he  had 
restrained  with  impatience  the  desire  to  burst  out  into 
bitter  laughter.  But  now  there  was  something  in  the 
aspect  of  Plowden's  collapse  which  seemed  to  forbid  tri 
umphant  derision.  He  was  taking  his  blow  so  like  a 
gentleman, — ashen-pale  and  quivering,  but  clinging  to  a 
high-bred  dignity  of  silence, — that  the  impulse  to  exhibit 
equally  good  manners  possessed  Thorpe  upon  the  instant. 

<{  Well — you  see  how  little  business  you  've  got,  setting 
yourself  to  buck  against  a  grown-up  man." 

He  offered  the  observation  in  the  tone  of  the  school 
teacher,  affectedly  philosophical  but  secretly  jubilant, 
who  harangues  a  defeated  and  humiliated  urchin  upon 
his  folly. 

"  Oh,  chuck  it  !  "  growled  Lord  Plowden,  staring  still 
at  the  calamitous  paper. 

Thorpe  accepted  in  good  part  the  intimation  that  silence 
was  after  all  most  decorous.  He  put  his  feet  up  on  the 
corner  of  the  desk,  and  tipping  back  his  chair,  surveyed 
the  discomfited  Viscount  impassively.  He  forbore  even 
to  smile. 

"  So  this  swine  of  a  Ta vender  came  straight  to  you  !  " 
Lord  Plowden  had  found  words  at  last.  As  he  spoke,  he 
lifted  his  face,  and  made  a  show  of  looking  the  other  in 
the  eye. 

"  Oh,  there  are  a  hundred  things  in  your  own  game, 
even,  that  you  have  n't  an  inkling  of,"  Thorpe  told  him, 
lightly.  "  I  Ve  been  watching  every  move  you  '  ve  made, 
seeing  further  ahead  in  your  own  game  than  you  did. 
Why,  it  was  too  easy  !  It  was  like  playing  draughts  with 
a  girl.  I  knew  you  would  come  today,  for  example.  I 
told  the  people  out  there  that  I  expected  you, ' ' 


3O2  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"Yes-s,"  said  the  other,  with  rueful  bewilderment. 
"  You  seem  to  have  been  rather  on  the  spot — I  con 
fess." 

"  On  the  spot  ?  All  over  the  place  !  "  Thorpe  lifted 
himself  slightly  in  his  chair,  and  put  more  animation  into 
his  voice. 

"It  's  the  mistake  you  people  make  !  "  he  declared 
oracularly.  "  You  think  that  a  man  can  come  into  the 
City  without  a  penny,  and  form  great  combinations  and 
carry  through  a  great  scheme,  and  wage  a  fight  with  the 
smartest  set  of  scoundrels  on  the  London  Stock  Exchange 
and  beat  'em,  and  make  for  himself  a  big  fortune — and 
still  be  a  fool  !  You  imagine  that  a  man  like  that  can  be 
played  with,  and  hoodwinked  by  amateurs  like  yourself. 
It  's  too  ridiculous  !  " 

The  perception  that  apparently  Thorpe  bore  little  or  no 
malice  had  begun  to  spread  through  Plowden's  conscious 
ness.  It  was  almost  more  surprising  to  him  than  the 
revelation  of  his  failure  had  been.  He  accustomed  him 
self  to  the  thought  gradually,  and  as  he  did  so  the  courage 
crept  back  into  his  glance.  He  breathed  more  easily. 

"  You  are  right  !  "  he  admitted.  It  cost  him  nothing 
to  give  a  maximum  of  fervid  conviction  to  the  tone  of  his 
words.  |^The  big  brute's  pride  in  his  own  brains  and 
power  was  still  his  weakest  point.)  ' '  You  are  right  !  I 
did  play  the  fool.  And  it  was  all  the  more  stupid,  be 
cause  I  was  the  first  man  in  London  to  recognize  the  im 
mense  forces  in  you.  I  said  to  you  at  the  very  outset, 
'  You  are  going  to  go  far.  You  are  going  to  be  a  great 
man.'  You  remember  that,  don't  you  ?  " 

Thorpe  nodded.     ' '  Yes— I  remember  it. ' ' 

The  nobleman,  upon  reflection,  drew  a  little  silver  box 
from  his  pocket,  and  extracted  a  match.  "  Do  you 
mind  ?  "  he  asked,  and  scarcely  waiting  for  a  token  of  re- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  303 

ply,  struck  a  flame  upon  the  sole  of  his  shoe,  and  applied 
it  to  the  sheet  of  foolscap  he  still  held  in  his  hand.  The 
two  men  watched  it  curl  and  blacken  after  it  had  been 
tossed  in  the  grate,  without  a  word. 

This  incident  had  the  effect  of  recalling  to  Thorpe 
the  essentials  of  the  situation.  He  had  allowed  the 
talk  to  drift  to  a  point  where  it  became  almost  affable. 
He  sat  upright  with  a  sudden  determination,  and  put 
his  feet  firmly  on  the  floor,  and  knitted  his  brows  in 
austerity. 

' '  It  was  not  only  a  dirty  trick  that  you  tried  to  play  me, ' ' 
he  said,  in  an  altered,  harsh  tone,  "  but  it  was  a  fool-trick. 
That  drunken  old  bum  of  a  Tavender  writes  some  lunatic 
nonsense  or  other  to  Gafferson,  and  he  's  a  worse  idiot 
even  than  Tavender  is,  and  on  the  strength  of  what  one 
of  these  clowns  thinks  he  surmises  the  other  clown  means, 
you  go  and  spend  your  money, — money  I  gave  you,  by  the 
way, — in  bringing  Tavender  over  here.  You  do  this  on 
the  double  chance,  we  '11  say,  of  using  him  against  me  for 
revenge  and  profit  combined,  or  of  peddling  him  to  me  for 
a  still  bigger  profit.  You  see  it  's  all  at  my  fingers' 
ends." 

Lord  Plowden  nodded  an  unqualified  assent. 

"Well  then — Tavender  arrives.  What  do  you  do? 
Are  you  at  the  wharf  to  meet  him  ?  Have  you  said  to 
yourself :  '  I  've  set  out  to  fight  one  of  the  smartest  and 
strongest  men  in  England,  and  I  've  got  to  keep  every 
atom  of  wits  about  me,  and  strain  every  nerve  to  the 
utmost,  and  watch  every  point  of  the  game  as  a  tiger 
watches  a  snake  '  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it  !  You  snooze  in  bed, 
and  you  send  Gafferson — Gafferson ! — the  mud-head  of  the 
earth  !  to  meet  your  Tavender,  and  loaf  about  with  him 
in  London,  and  bring  him  down  by  a  slow  train  to  your 
place  in  the  evening.  My  God  !  You  've  only  got  two 


304  tHE   MARKET-PLACE 

clear  days  left  to  do  the  whole  thing  in — and  you  don't 
even  come  up  to  town  to  get  ready  for  them  !  You  send 
Gafferson— and  he  goes  off  to  see  a  flower-show — Mother 
of  Moses  !  think  of  it  !  afawer-show ! — and  your  Tavender 
and  I  are  left  to  take  a  stroll  together,  and  talk  over  old 
times  and  arrange  about  new  times,  and  so  on,  to  our 
hearts'  content.  Really,  it  's  too  easy  !  You  make  me 
tired  !" 

The  nobleman  offered  a  wan,  appealing  shadow  of  a 
smile.  "  I  confess  to  a  certain  degree  of  weariness  my 
self,  ' '  he  said,  humbly. 

Thorpe  looked  at  him  in  his  old  apathetic,  leaden 
fashion  for  a  little.  "  I  may  tell  you  that  if  you  had  got 
hold  of  Tavender, "  he  decided  to  tell  him,  "  he  would  n't 
have  been  of  the  faintest  use  to  you.  I  know  what  it  was 
that  he  wrote  to  Gafferson, — I  could  n't  understand  it 
when  he  first  told  me,  but  afterwards  I  saw  through  it,— 
and  it  was  merely  a  maudlin  misapprehension  of  his. 
He  'd  got  three  or  four  things  all  mixed  up  together. 
You  've  never  met  your  friend  Tavender,  I  believe  ? 
You  'd  enjoy  him  at  Hadlow  House.  He  smells  of  rum  a 
hundred  yards  off.  What  little  brain  he  's  got  left  is 
soaked  in  it.  The  first  time  I  was  ever  camping  with 
him,  I  had  to  lick  him  for  drinking  the  methylated  spirits 
we  were  using  with  our  tin  stove.  Oh,  you  'd  have  liked 
him  !" 

<(  Evidently,"  said  I,ord  Plowden,  upon  reflection,  "  it 
was  all  a  most  unfortunate  and — ah — most  deplorable 
mistake."  With  inspiration,  he  made  bold  to  add  :  "  The 
most  amazing  thing,  though — to  my  mind — is  that  you 
don't  seem — what  shall  I  say  ? — particularly  enraged 
with  me  about  it." 

"Yes — that  surprises  me,  too,"  Thorpe  meditatively 
admitted.  "  I  was  entitled  to  kill  you — crush  you  to 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  305 

jelly.      Any  other  man   I  would.     But  you, — I  don't 
know, — I  do  funny  things  with  you." 

1  (  I  wish  you  would  give  me  a  drink,  now — as  one  of 
them,"  Plowden  ventured  to  suggest,  with  uneasy 
pleasantry. 

Thorpe  smiled  a  little  as  he  rose,  and  heavily  moved 
across  the  room.  He  set  out  upon  the  big  official  table 
in  the  middle,  that  mockingly  pretentious  reminder  of  a 
Board  which  never  met,  a  decanter  and  two  glasses  and 
some  recumbent,  round-bottomed  bottles.  He  handed 
one  of  these  last  to  Plowden,  as  the  latter  strolled  toward 
the  table. 

'  You  know  how  to  open  these,  don't  you?  "  he  said, 
languidly.  "  Somehow  I  never  could  manage  it." 

The  nobleman  submissively  took  the  bottle,  and  picked 
with  awkwardness  at  its  wire  and  cork,  and  all  at  once 
achieved  a  premature  and  not  over-successful  explosion. 
He  wiped  his  dripping  cuff  in  silence,  when  the  tumblers 
were  supplied. 

"  Well— here  's  better  luck  to  you  next  time,"  Thorpe 
said,  lifting  his  glass.  The  audacious  irony  of  his  words 
filled  Plowden  with  an  instant  purpose. 

'  What  on  earth  did  you  round  on  me  in  that  way  for, 
Thorpe — when  I  was  here  last  ?  ' '  He  put  the  question 
with  bravery  enough,  but  at  sight  of  the  other's  unre 
sponsive  face  grew  suddenly  timorous  and  explanatory. 
"  No  man  was  ever  more  astounded  in  the  world  than  I 
was.  To  this  day  I  'm  as  unable  to  account  for  it  as  a 
babe  unborn.  What  conceivable  thing  had  I  done  to 
you  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  slowly  thought  of  something  that  had  not  oc 
curred  to  him  before,  and  seized  upon  it  with  a  certain 
satisfaction. 

"  That  day  that  you  took  me  shooting."  he  said,  with 


306  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

the  tone  of  one  finally  exposing  a  long-nursed  grievance, 
' '  you  stayed  in  bed  for  hours  after  you  knew  I  was  up  and 
waiting  for  you — and  when  we  went  out,  you  had  a  servant 
to  carry  a  chair  for  you,  but  I — by  God  ! — I  had  to  stand 
up." 

"  Heavens  above  !  "  ejaculated  Plowden,  in  unfeigned 
amazement. 

"  These  are  little  things — mere  trifles,"  continued 
Thorpe,  dogmatically,  "  but  with  men  of  my  temper  and 
make-up  those  are  just  the  things  that  aggravate  and 
rankle  and  hurt.  Maybe  it  's  foolish,  but  that  's  the 
kind  of  man  I  am.  You  ought  to  have  had  the  intelli 
gence  to  see  that — and  not  let  these  stupid  little  things 
happen  to  annoy  me.  Why  just  think  what  you  did.  I 
was  going  to  do  God  knows  what  for  you — make  your 
fortune  and  everything  else, — and  you  did  n't  show  con 
sideration  enough  for  me  to  get  out  of  bed  at  a  decent 
hour — much  less  see  to  it  that  I  had  a  chair  if  you  were 
going  to  have  one. ' ' 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  can't  tell  how  ashamed  and  sorry  I 
am, ' '  Lord  Plowden  assured  him,  with  fervent  contrition 
in  his  voice. 

"  Well,  those  are  the  things  to  guard  against,"  said 
Thorpe,  approaching  a  dismissal  of  the  subject.  "  People 
who  show  consideration  for  me  ;  people  who  take  pains 
to  do  the  little  pleasant  things  for  me,  and  see  that  I  'm 
not  annoyed  and  worried  by  trifles — they  're  the  people 
that  I,  on  my  side,  do  the  big  things  for.  I  can  be  the 
best  friend  in  the  world,  but  only  to  those  who  show  that 
they  care  for  me,  and  do  what  they  know  I  '11  like.  I  don't 
want  toadies  about  me,  but  I  do  want  people  who  feel 
bound  to  me,  and  are  as  keen  about  me  and  my  feelings 
and  interests  as  they  are  about  their  own. ' ' 

"It  is  delightfully  feudal — all  this,"  commented  the 


THE  MARKET-PLACE  307 

nobleman,  smilingly  addressing  the  remark  to  nobody  in 
particular.  Then  he  looked  at  Thorpe.  "  Let  me  be  one 
of  them — one  of  the  people  you  speak  of, ' '  he  said,  with 
directness. 

Thorpe  returned  his  look  with  the  good-natured  begin 
nings  of  a  grin.  ' '  But  what  would  you  be  good  for  ?  "  he 
queried,  in  a  bantering  tone.  "  People  I  have  about  me 
have  to  be  of  some  use.  They  require  to  have  heads  on 
their  shoulders.  Why — just  think  what  you  've  done.  I 
don't  mean  so  much  about  your  letting  Tavender  slip 
through  your  fingers — although  that  was  about  the  worst 
I  ever  heard  of.  But  here  in  this  room,  at  that  desk 
there,  you  allowed  me  to  bounce  you  into  writing  and 
signing  a  paper  which  you  ought  to  have  had  your  hand 
cut  off  rather  than  write,  much  less  sign.  You  come  here 
trying  to  work  the  most  difficult  and  dangerous  kind  of  a 
bluff, — knowing  all  the  while  that  the  witness  you  de 
pended  entirely  upon  had  disappeared,  you  had  n't  the 
remotest  idea  where, — and  you  actually  let  me  lead  you 
into  giving  me  your  signature  to  your  own  declaration 
that  you  are  blackmailing  me  !  Thinking  it  all  over— 
you  know — I  can't  see  that  you  would  be  of  much  help  to 
me  in  the  City." 

Lord  Plowden  joined  perforce  in  the  laughter  with 
which  the  big  man  enjoyed  his  own  pleasantry.  His 
mirth  had  some  superficial  signs  of  shamefacedness,  but  it 
was  hopeful  underneath.  "  The  City  !  "  he  echoed,  with 
meaning.  "  That  's  the  curse  of  it.  What  do  I  know 
about  the  City  ?  What  business  have  I  in  the  City  ?  As 
you  said,  I  'm  the  amateur.  A  strong  man  like  you  can 
make  me  seem  any  kind  of  a  ridiculous  fool  he  likes,  with 
the  turn  of  his  hand.  I  see  that  right  enough.  But  what 
am  I  to  do  ?  I  have  to  make  a  shot  at  something.  I  'm 
so  rotten  poor  ! ' ' 


308  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Thorpe  had  retired  again  behind  the  barrier  of  dull- 
eyed  abstraction.  He  seemed  not  to  have  heard  this  ap 
pealing  explanation. 

The  other  preserved  silence  in  turn,  and  even  made  a 
pretence  of  looking  at  some  pamphlets  on  the  table,  as  a 
token  of  his  boundless  deference  to  the  master's  mood. 

11  I  don't  know.  I  '11  see,"  the  big  man  muttered  at 
last,  doubtfully. 

Lord  Plowden  felt  warranted  in  taking  an  optimistic 
view  of  these  vague  words.  "  It 's  awfully  good  of  you  " 
— he  began,  lamely,  and  then  paused.  "  I  wonder," — he 
took  up  a  new  thought  with  a  more  solicitous  tone, — "  I 
wonder  if  you  would  mind  returning  to  me  that  idiotic 
paper  I  signed." 

Thorpe  shook  his  head.  "  Not  just  now,  at  any  rate," 
he  said,  still  musingly.  With  his  head  bowed,  he  took  a 
few  restless  steps. 

"  But  you  are  going  to — to  help  me  !  "  the  other  re 
marked,  with  an  air  of  confidence.  He  had  taken  up  his 
hat,  in  response  to  the  tacit  warning  of  his  companion's 
manner. 

Thorpe  looked  at  him  curiously,  and  hesitated  over  his 
answer.  It  was  a  surprising  and  almost  unaccountable 
conclusion  for  the  interview  to  have  reached.  He  was  in 
some  vague  way  ashamed  of  himself,  but  he  was  explicitly 
and  contemptuously  ashamed  for  Plowden,  and  the  im 
pulse  to  say  so  was  strong  within  him.  This  handsome 
young  gentleman  of  title  ought  not  to  be  escaping  with 
this  restored  buoyancy  of  mien,  and  this  complacency  of 
spirit.  He  had  deserved  to  be  punished  with  a  heavy 
hand,  and  here  he  was  blithely  making  certain  of  new 
benefits  instead. 

"  I  don't  know — I  '11  see,"  Thorpe  moodily  repeated — 
and  there  was  no  more  to  be  said. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

IN  the  noon  hour  of  the  following  day  was  enacted  the 
brief  final  scene  in;  the  dramaW  the  ' '  Rubber  Consols 
corner. ' ' 

For  long  weeks,  Mr.  Stormont  Thorpe  had  given  much 
thought  to  this  approaching  climax  of  his  great  adventure 
• — looking  forward  to  it  both  as  the  crowning  event  of  his 
life,  and  as  the  dawn  of  a  new  existence  in  some  novel, 
enchanted  world.  It  was  to  bring  his  triumph,  and  even 
more,  his  release.  It  was  at  once  to  crown  him  as  a  hero 
and  chieftain  among  City  men,  and  transfigure  him  into  a 
being  for  whom  all  City  things  were  an  abomination.  In 
his  waking  hours,  the  conflict  between  these  aims  did  not 
specially  force  itself  upon  his  attention  :  he  mused  upon, 
and  spun  fancies  about,  either  one  indifferently,  and  they 
seemed  not  at  all  irreconcilable.  But  his  dreams  were  full 
of  warfare, — wearily  saturated  with  strife,  and  endless 
endeavour  to  do  things  which  could  not  be  done,  and 
panic-stricken  terrors  before  the  shadow  of  shapeless 
calamities, — until  he  dreaded  to  go  to  sleep.  Then  he 
discovered  that  an  extra  two  glasses  of  whiskey-and- water 
would  solve  that  particular  difficulty,  and  send  him  into 
prompt,  leaden  slumber — but  the  early  mornings  remained 
as  torturing  as  ever.  In  the  twilight  he  awoke  oppressed 
and  sick  at  heart  with  gloom — and  then  dozed  at  intervals 
through  fantastic  new  ordeals  of  anguish  and  shame  and 
fear,  till  it  was  decently  possible  to  get  up. 

Then,  indeed,  the  big  cold  sponge  on  his  head  and  spine 

309 


3IO  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

scattered  these  foolish  troubles  like  chaff,  and  restored  to 
him  his  citizenship  among  the  realities.  He  dressed  with 
returning  equanimity,  and  was  almost  cheerful  by  the  time 
he  thrust  his  razor  into  the  hot  water.  Yet  increasingly 
he  was  conscious  of  the  wear  and  strain  of  it  all,  and  in 
creasingly  the  date,  September  twelfth,  loomed  before  him 
with  a  portentous  individuality  of  its  own. 

This  day  grew  to  mean  so  much  more  to  him  than  had 
all  the  other  days  of  the  dead  years  together  that  he  woke 
in  the  darkness  of  its  opening  hours,  and  did  not  get  satis 
factorily  to  sleep  again.  His  vigil,  however,  was  for  the 
once  free  from  grief.  He  drowsily  awaited  the  morning 
in  vague  mental  comfort ;  he  had  recurring  haphazard  in 
dolent  glimpses  of  a  protecting  fact  standing  guard  just 
outside  the  portals  of  consciousness — the  fact  that  the 
great  day  was  here.  He  rose  early,  breakfasted  well,  and 
walked  by  the  Embankment  to  the  City,  where  at  ten  he 
had  a  few  words  with  Semple,  and  afterward  caused  him 
self  to  be  denied  to  ordinary  callers.  He  paced  up  and 
down  the  Board  Room  for  the  better  part  of  the  ensuing 
two  hours,  luxuriating  in  the  general  sense  of  satisfaction 
in  the  proximity  of  the  climax,  rather  than  pretending  to 
himself  that  he  was  thinking  out  its  details.  He  had  pro 
vided  in  his  plans  of  the  day  for  a  visit  from  Messrs. 
Rostocker  and  Aronson,  which  should  constitute  the 
dramatic  finale  of  the  * '  corner, ' '  and  he  looked  forward 
to  this  meeting  with  a  certain  eagerness  of  expectation. 
Yet  even  here  he  thought  broadly  of  the  scene  as  a  whole, 
and  asked  himself  no  questions  about  words  and  phrases. 
It  seemed  to  be  taken  for  granted  in  his  mind  that  the 
scene  itself  would  be  theatrically  impressive,  even 
spectacular. 

In  the  event,  this  long-awaited  culmination  proved  to 
be  disappointingly  flat  and  commonplace.  It  was  over 


» 


1  WHEN  THEY  STOOD  BRUSQUELY  SILENT  BEFORE  HIM."— Page  3 1 1 . 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  311 

before  Thorpe  had  said  any  considerable  proportion  of  the 
things  he  saw  afterward  that  he  had  intended  to  say. 
The  two  men  came  as  he  had  expected  they  would — and 
they  bought  their  way  out  of  the  tragic  ( *  corner ' '  at  pre 
cisely  the  price  he  had  nominated  in  his  mind.  But 
hardly  anything  else  went  as  he  had  dimly  prefigured  it. 

Mr.  Rostocker  was  a  yellow-haired  man,  and  Mr.  Aron- 
T*on  was  as  dark  as  a  Moor,  and  no  physical  resemblance 
of  features  or  form  suggested  itself  to  the  comparing  eye, 
ret  Thorpe  even  now,  when  they  stood  brusquely  silent 
before  him,  with  their  carefully-brushed  hats  pulled  down 
over  their  eyes,  stuck  to  it  in  his  own  mind  that  it  was 
hard  to  tell  them  apart.  To  the  end,  there  was  some 
thing  impersonal  in  his  feeling  toward  them.  They,  for 
their  part,  coldly  abstained  from  exhibiting  a  sign  of  feel 
ing  about  him,  good,  bad,  or  indifferent. 

It  was  the  man  with  the  fair  hair  and  little  curly  flaxen 
beard  who  spoke  :  "  How  do  you  do  !  I  understand 
that  we  can  buy  eight  thousand  five  hundred  Rubber 
Consols  from  you  at  '  twenty-three.'  ' 

"  No — twenty-five,"  replied  Thorpe. 

The  dark  man  spoke  :  "  The  jobbers'  price  is  twenty- 
three." 

"  To  carry  over — yes,"  Thorpe  answered.  "  But  to 
buy  it  is  twenty- five." 

The  two  sons  of  the  race  which  invented  mental  arith 
metic  exchanged  an  alert  glance,  and  looked  at  the  floor 
for  an  engrossed  instant. 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you,"  Thorpe  interposed  upon 
their  silence,  "  I  put  on  that  extra  two  pounds  because 
you  got  up  that  story  about  applying  to  the  Stock  Ex 
change  Committee  on  a  charge  of  fraud. ' ' 

"  We  did  n't  get  up  any  story,"  said  Rostocker,  curtly. 
'You  tried  to  plant  it  on  us,"  Aronson  declared. 


312  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  One  of  your  own  Directors  put  it  about.     I  thought  $f 
was  a  fake  at  the  time. ' ' 

This  view  of  the  episode  took  Thorpe  by  surprise.  As 
it  seemed,  in  passing,  to  involve  a  compliment  to  his  own 
strategic  powers,  he  accepted  it  without  comment.  * '  Well 
— it  is  twenty-five,  anyway, ' '  he  told  them,  with  firmness. 

''  Twenty-four,"  suggested  Aronson,  after  another 
momentary  pause. 

"  Not  a  shilling  less  than  twenty-five,"  Thorpe  insisted, 
with  quiet  doggedness. 

: '  We  can  always  pay  our  creditors  and  let  you  whistle, ' ' 
Rostocker  reminded  him,  laconically. 

c  You  can  do  anything  you  like,"  was  the  reply,  "  ex 
cept  buy  Rubber  Consols  under  twenty-five.  It  does  n't 
matter  a  fig  to  me  whether  you  go  bankrupt  or  not.  It 
would  suit  me  as  well  to  have  you  two  '  hammered  '  as  to 
take  your  money. ' '  Upon  the  spur  of  a  sudden  thought 
he  drew  out  his  watch.  "  In  just  two  minutes'  time  to  a 
tick,  the  price  will  be  thirty." 

"  Let  's  be  '  hammered '  then  !  "  said  Aronson  to  his 
companion,  with  simulated  impulsiveness. 

Rostocker  was  the  older  and  stronger  man,  and  when  at 
last  he  spoke  it  was  with  the  decision  of  one  in  authority. 
"  It  is  your  game,"  he  said,  with  grave  imperturbability. 
"  Eight  thousand  five  hundred  at  twenty-five.  Will  you 
deliver  at  the  Credit Xyonnais  in  half  an  hour  ?  " 

Thorpe  nodded,  impassively.  Then  a  roving  idea  of 
genial  impertinence  brought  a  gleam  to  his  eye.  "  If  you 
should  happen  to  want  more  Rubber  Consols  at  any  time, ' ' 
he  said,  with  a  tentative  chuckle,  "  I  could  probably  let 
you  have  them  at  a  reduced  price." 

The  two  received  the  pleasantry  without  a  smile,  but  to 
Thorpe's  astonishment  one  of  them  seemed  to  discern 
something  in  it  beside  banter.  It  was  Rostocker  who 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  313 

said  :  "  Perhaps  we  may  make  a  deal  with  you,"  and 
apparently  meant  it. 

They  went  out  at  this,  ignoring  ceremony  upon  their 
exit  as  stolidly  as  they  had  done  upon  their  entrance,  and 
a  moment  later  Thorpe  called  in  the  Secretary,  and  des 
patched  a  messenger  to  bring  Semple  from  Capel  Court. 
The  formalities  of  this  final  transfer  of  shares  had  been 
dictated  to  the  former,  and  he  had  gone  off  on  the  busi 
ness,  before  the  Broker  arrived. 

Thorpe  stood  waiting  near  the  door,  and  held  out  his 
hand  with  a  dramatically  significant  gesture  when  the 
little  Scotchman  entered.  "Put  her  there!"  he  ex 
claimed  heartily,  with  an  exuberant  reversion  to  the 
slang  of  remote  transatlantic  bonhomie. 

(<  Yeh  've  done  it,  then  !  "  said  Semple,  his  sharp  face 
softening  with  pleasure  at  the  news.  "  Yeh  've  pulled  it 
off  at  twenty-three  !  " 

The  other's  big  countenance  yielded  itself  to  a  boyish 
grin.  ' '  Twenty-yfod?  /  "  he  said,  and  laughed  aloud. 
' '  After  you  left  this  morning,  it  kind  o'  occurred  to  me 
that  I  'd  raise  it  a  couple  of  pounds.  I  found  I  was  mad 
der  about  those  pieces  in  the  newspapers  than  I  thought 
I  was,  and  so  I  took  an  extra  seventeen  thousand  pounds 
on  that  account." 

11  God  above  !  "  Semple  ejaculated,  with  a  satisfaction 
through  which  signs  of  an  earlier  fright  were  visible.  ' '  It 
was  touch-and-go  if  you  did  n't  lose  it  all  by  doing  that  ! 
You  risked  everything,  man  !  " 

Thorpe  ponderously  shrugged  his  shoulders.  * '  Well— 
I  did  it,  anyhow,  and  it  came  off,"  was  his  comment. 
Then,  straightening  himself,  he  drew  a  long,  long  breath, 
and  beamed  down  at  the  little  man,  ' '  Think  of  it !  God  I 
It  's  actually  all  over  !  And  now  perhaps  we  won't  have 
a  drink  !  Hell  !  Let 's  send  out  for  some  champagne!  '' 


314  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

His  finger  was  hovering  over  the  bell,  when  the  Broker's 
dissuading  voice  arrested  it.  * '  No,  no  !  "  Semple  urged. 
"  I  would  n't  touch  it.  It 's  no  fit  drink  for  the  daytime 
— and  it 's  a  scandal  in  an  office.  Your  clerks  will  aye 
blab  it  about  hither  and  yon,  and  nothing  harms  a  man's 
reputation  more  in  the  City.  ' ' 

"  Oh,  to  hell  with  the  City  !  "  cried  Thorpe,  joyously. 
"I'm  never  going  to  set  foot  in  it  again.  Think  of  that  ! 
I  mean  it  !  " 

None  the  less,  he  abandoned  the  idea  of  sending  out  for 
wine,  and  contented  himself  with  the  resources  of  the 
cabinet  instead.  After  some  friendly  pressure,  Semple 
consented  to  join  him  in  a  brandy-and-soda,  though  he 
continued  to  protest  between  sips  that  at  such  an  hour  it 
was  an  indecent  practice. 

"  It  's  the  ruin  of  many  a  strong  man,"  he  moralized, 
looking  rather  pointedly  at  Thorpe  over  his  glass.  ' '  It 's 
the  principal  danger  that  besets  the  verra  successful  man. 
He  's  too  busily  occupied  to  take  exercise,  arid  he  's  too 
anxious  and  worried  to  get  his  proper  sleep — but  he  can 
always  drink  !  In  one  sense,  I  'm  not  sorry  to  think  that 
you  're  leaving  the  City." 

"  Oh,  it  never  hurts  me,"  Thorpe  said,  indifferently  ac 
cepting  the  direction  of  the  homily.  ' '  I  'm  as  strong  as  an 
ox.  But  all  the  same,  I  shall  be  better  in  every  way  for 
getting  out  of  this  hole.  Thank  God,  I  can  get  off  to  Scot 
land  tomorrow.  But  I  say,  Semple,  what  's  the  matter 
with  your  visiting  me  at  my  place  there  ?  I  '11  give  you 
the  greatest  shooting  and  fishing  you  ever  heard  of. ' ' 

The  Broker  was  thinking  of  something  else.  '  What 
is  to  be  the  precise  position  of  the  Company,  in  the  im 
mediate  future  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Company  ?     What  Company  ?  " 

Semple  smiled  grimly.     "  Have  you  already  forgotten 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  3:5 

that  there  is  such  a  thing?"  he  queried,  with  irony. 
"  Why,  man,  this  Company  that  paid  for  this  verra  fine 
Board- table, ' '  he  explained,  with  his  knuckles  on  its  red 
baize  centre. 

Thorpe  laughed  amusedly.  ' '  I  paid  for  that  out  of  my 
own  pocket,"  he  said.  "  For  that  matter  everything 
about  the  Company  has  come  out  of  my  pocket ' ' 

"  Or  gone  into  it,"  suggested  the  other,  and  they 
chuckled  together. 

"  But  no— you  're  right,"  Thorpe  declared.  "  Some 
thing  ought  to  be  settled  about  the  Company,  I  suppose. 
Of  course  I  wash  my  hands  of  it — but  would  anybody  else 
want  to  go  on  with  it  ?  You  see  its  annual  working  ex 
penses,  merely  for  the  office  and  the  Board,  foot  up  nearly 
.£3,000.  I  've  paid  these  for  this  year,  but  naturally  I 
won't  do  it  again.  And  would  it  be  worth  anybody  else's 
while  to  do  it  ?  Yours,  for  example  ?  ' ' 

"  Have  you  had  any  explanations  with  the  other 
Directors  ?  "  the  Broker  asked,  thoughtfully. 

"  Explanations— no,"  Thorpe  told  him.  "  But  that 's 
all  right.  The  Marquis  has  been  taken  care  of,  and  so 
has  Plowden.  They  're  game  to  agree  to  anything. 
And  let  's  see — Kervick  is  entirely  my  man.  That 
leaves  Watkin  and  Davidson — and  they  don't  matter. 
They  '  re  mere  guinea-pigs.  A  few  hundreds  apiece  would 
shut  them  up,  if  you  thought  it  was  worth  while  to  give 
them  anything  at  all." 

"  And  about  the  property, — the  rubber  plantation, — 
that  the  Company  was  formed  to  acquire  and  develop.  I 
suppose  there  really  is  such  a  plantation  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  's  all  there  right  enough,"  Thorpe  said, 
briefly. 

"  It  's  no  good,  though,  is  it  ?  "  the  Broker  asked,  with 
affable  directness. 


3l6  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

"  Between  ourselves,  it  isn't  worth  a  damn,"  the  other 
blithely  assured  him. 

The  Scotchman  mused  with  bent  brows.  ' '  There  ought 
still  to  be  money  in  it,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of  conviction. 

"  By  the  way,"  it  occurred  to  Thorpe  to  mention, 
' '  here 's  something  I  did  n't  understand.  I  told  Rostocker 
here,  just  as  a  cheeky  kind  of  joke,  that  after  he  and  Aron- 
son  had  got  their  eight  thousand  five  hundred,  if  they 
thought  they  'd  like  still  more  shares,  I  'd  let  'em  have 
'em  at  a  bargain — and  he  seemed  to  take  it  seriously.  He 
did  for  a  fact.  Said  perhaps  he  could  make  a  deal  with 
me." 

"  Hm-m  !  "  said  Semple,  reflectively.  "  I  '11  see  if  he 
says  anything  to  me.  Very  likely  he  's  spotted  some  way 
of  taking  the  thing  over,  and  reorganizing  it,  and  giving 
it  another  run  over  the  course.  I  '11  think  it  out.  And 
now  I  must  be  off.  Are  n't  you  lunching  ?  " 

"  No — I  '11  have  the  boy  bring  in  some  sandwiches," 
Thorpe  decided.  ' '  I  want  my  next  meal  west  of  Temple 
Bar  when  I  get  round  to  it.  I  've  soured  on  the  City  for 
keeps." 

"  I  would  n't  say  that  it  had  been  so  bad  to  you, 
either, ' '  Semple  smilingly  suggested,  as  he  turned  to  the 
door. 

Thorpe  grinned  in  satisfied  comment.  "  Hurry  back 
as  soon  as  you  've  finally  settled  with  Rostocker  and  the 
other  fellow,"  he  called  after  him,  and  began  pacing  the 
floor  again. 

It  was  nearly  four  o'clock  when  these  two  men,  again 
together  in  the  Board  Room,  and  having  finished  the  in 
spection  of  some  papers  on  the  desk,  sat  upright  and 
looked  at  each  other  in  tacit  recognition  that  final  words 
were  to  be  spoken. 

; '  Well,  Semple, ' '  Thorpe  began,  after  that  significant 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  317 

little  pause,  "  I  want  to  say  that  I  'm  damned  glad  you  've 
done  so  well  for  yourself  in  this  affair.  You  've  been  as 
straight  as  a  die  to  me, — I  owe  it  as  much  to  you  as  I  do 
to  myself, — and  if  you  don't  think  you  've  got  enough 
even  now,  I  want  you  to  say  so." 

He  had  spoken  in  tones  of  sincere  liking,  and  the  other 
answered  him  in  kind.  ' '  I  have  more  than  I  ever  dreamed 
of  making  in  a  lifetime  when  I  came  to  London,"  he  de 
clared.  ' '  If  my  father  were  alive,  and  heard  me  tell  him 
that  in  one  year,  out  of  a  single  transaction,  I  had  cleared 
over  sixty-five  thousand  pounds,  he  'd  be  fit  to  doubt  the 
existence  of  a  Supreme  Being.  I  'm  obliged  to  you  for 
your  good  words,  Thorpe.  It  's  not  only  been  profitable 
to  work  with  you,  but  it  has  been  a  great  education  and  a 
great  pleasure  as  well. ' ' 

Thorpe  nodded  his  appreciation.  "  I  'm  going  to  ask 
a  favour  of  you, ' '  he  said.  * '  I  want  to  leave  the  general 
run  of  my  investments  and  interests  here  in  your  hands, 
to  keep  track  of.  I  don't  want  to  speculate  at  all,  in  the 
ordinary  meaning  of  the  word.  Even  after  I  bury  a  pot 
of  money  in  non-productive  real  estate,  I  shall  have  an 
income  of  .£50,000  at  the  very  least,  and  perhaps  twice 
as  much.  There  's  no  fun  in  gambling  when  you  Ve  got 
such  a  bank  as  that  behind  you.  But  if  there  are  good, 
wise  changes  to  be  made  in  investments,  or  if  things  turn 
up  in  the  way  of  chances  that  I  ought  to  know  about,  I 
want  to  feel  that  you  're  on  the  spot  watching  things  and 
doing  things  in  my  interest.  And  as  it  won't  be  regular 
broker's  work,  I  shall  want  to  pay  you  a  stated  sum — 
whatever  you  think  is  right." 

11  That  will  arrange  itself  easily  enough,"  said  Semple. 
"  I  shall  have  the  greatest  pleasure  in  caring  for  whatever 
you  put  in  my  hands.  And  I  think  I  can  promise  that  it 
will  be  none  the  worse  for  the  keeping." 


3l8  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  I  don't  need  any  assurance  on  that  score,"  Thorpe 
declared,  cordially.  "  You  're  the  one  sterling,  honest 
man  I  've  known  in  the  City." 

It  was  the  Broker's  turn  to  make  a  little  acknowledging 
bow.  His  eyes  gleamed  frank  satisfaction  at  being  so 
well  understood.  "  I  think  I  see  the  way  that  more 
money  can  be  made  out  of  the  Company,"  he  said,  ab 
ruptly  changing  the  subject.  "  I  've  had  but  a  few  words 
with  Rostocker  about  it — but  it  's  clear  to  me  that  he  has 
a  plan.  He  will  be  coming  to  you  with  a  proposition." 

"  Well,  he  won't  find  me,  then,"  interposed  Thorpe, 
with  a  comfortable  smile.  "  I  leave  all  that  to  you." 

"  I  suspect  that  his  plan,"  continued  Semple,  "is  to 
make  a  sub-rosa  offer  of  a  few  shillings  for  the  majority 
of  the  shares,  and  reconstitute  the  Board,  and  then  form 
another  Company  to  buy  the  property  and  good-will  of  the 
old  one  at  a  handsome  price.  Now  if  that  would  be  a  good 
thing  for  him  to  do,  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  me  to  do. 
I  shall  go  over  it  all  carefully,  in  detail,  this  evening. 
And  I  suppose,  if  I  see  my  way  clear  before  me,  that  I 
may  rely  upon  your  good  feeling  in  the  matter.  I  would 
do  all  the  work  and  assume  all  the  risk,  and,  let  us  say, 
divide  any  profits  equally — you  in  turn  giving  me  a  free 
hand  with  all  your  shares,  and  your  influence  with  the 
Directors." 

"  I  '11  do  better  still,"  Thorpe  told  him,  upon  brief  re 
flection.  "  Reconstitute  the  Board  and  make  L/ord 
Plowden  Chairman, — I  don't  imagine  the  Marquis  would 
have  the  nerve  to  go  on  with  it, — and  I  '11  make  a  free 
gift  of  my  shares  to  you  two — half  and  half.  You  '11  find 
him  all  right  to  work  with, — if  you  can  only  get  him  up 
in  the  morning, — and  I  've  kind  o'  promised  him  some 
thing  of  the  sort.  Does  that  suit  you  ?  " 

Semple' s  countenance  was  thoughtful  rather  than  $u« 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  319 

thusiastic.  "I'm  more  skeptical  about  Lords  than  you 
are,"  he  observed,  "but  if  he  's  amenable,  and  under 
stands  that  his  part  is  to  do  what  I  tell  him  to  do,  I  've 
no  doubt  we  shall  hit  it  off  together. " 

"Oh,  absolutely  ! "  said  Thorpe,  with  confidence. 
"  I  '11  see  to  it  that  he  behaves  like  a  lamb.  You  're  to 
have  an  absolutely  free  hand.  You  're  to  do  what  you 
like, — wind  the  Company  up,  or  sell  it  out,  or  rig  it  up 
under  a  new  name  and  catch  a  new  set  of  gudgeons  with 
it, — whatever  you  damned  please.  When  I  trust  a  man, 
I  trust  him." 

The  two  friends,  their  faces  brightened  and  their  voices 
mellowed  by  this  serene  consciousness  of  their  mutual 
trust  in  each  other's  loyalty  and  integrity,  dwelt  no 
further  upon  these  halcyon  beginnings  of  affresh  plan  for 
plundering  the  public^  They  spoke  instead  on  personal 
topics — of  the  possibility  of  Semple's  coming  to  Scotland 
during  the  autumn,  and  of  the  chance  of  Thorpe's  winter 
ing  abroad.  All  at  once  Thorpe  found  himself  disclosing 
the  fact  of  his  forthcoming  marriage,  though  he  did  not 
mention  the  name  of  the  lady's  father,  and  under  the 
gracious  stress  of  this  announcement  they  drank  again, 
and  clinked  glasses  fervently.  When  Semple  at  last  took 
his  leave,  they  shook  hands  with  the  deep-eyed  earnest 
ness  of  comrades  who  have  been  through  battle  and  faced 
death  together. 

It  was  not  until  Thorpe  stood  alone  that  the  full  realiz 
ing  sense  of  what  the  day  meant  seemed  to  come  to  him. 
Fruition  was  finally  complete  :  the  last  winnowing  of  the 
great  harvest  had  been  added  to  the  pile.  Positively 
nothing  remained  for  him  but  to  enter  and  enjoy  ! 

He  found  it  curiously  difficult  to  grasp  the  thought  in 
its  entirety.  He  stood  the  master  of  unlimited  leisure  for 
the  rest  of  his  life,  and  of  power  to  enrich  that  life  with 


320  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

everything  that  money  could  buy, — but  there  was  an  odd 
inability  to  feel  about  it  as  he  knew  he  ought  to  feel. 

Somehow,  for  some  unaccountable  reason,  an  absurd 
depression  hovered  about  over  his  mind,  darkening  it  with 
formless  shadows.  It  was  as  if  he  were  sorry  that  the 
work  was  all  finished — that  there  was  nothing  more  for 
him  to  do.  But  that  was  too  foolish,  and  he  tried  to  thrust 
it  from  him.  He  said  with  angry  decision  to  himself  that 
he  had  never  liked  the  work  ;  that  it  had  all  been  un 
pleasant  and  grinding  drudgery,  tolerable  only  as  a  means 
to  an  end ;  that  now  this  end  had  been  reached,  he  wanted 
never  to  lay  eyes  on  the  City  again. 

L,et  him  dwell  instead  upon  the  things  he  did  want  to 
lay  eyes  upon/  Some  travel  no  doubt  he  would  like,  but 
not  too  much  ;  certainly  no  more  than  his  wife  would 
cheerfully  accept  as  a  minimum.  He  desired  rather  to 
rest  among  his  own  possessions.  To  be  lord  of  the  manor 
at  Pellesley  Court,  with  his  own  retinue  of  servants  and 
dependents  and  tenants,  his  own  thousands  of  rich  acres, 
his  own  splendid  old  timber,  his  own  fat  stock  and  fleet 
horses  and  abundant  covers  and  prize  kennels — that  was 
what  most  truly  appealed  to  him.  It  was  not  at  all  cer 
tain  that  he  would  hunt ;  break-neck  adventure  in  the 
saddle  scarcely  attracted  him.  But  there  was  no  reason 
in  the  world  why  he  should  not  breed  racing  horses,  and 
create  for  himself  a  distinguished  and  even  lofty  position 
on  the  Turf.  He  had  never  cared  much  about  races  or 
racing  folk  himself,  but  when  the  Prince  and  Lord  Rose- 
bery  and  people  like  that  went  in  for  winning  the  Derby, 
there  clearly  must  be  something  fascinating  in  it. 

Then  Parliament,  of  course  ;  he  did  not  waver  at  all 
from  his  old  if  vague  conception  of  a  seat  in  Parliament  as 
a  natural  part  of  the  outfit  of  a  powerful  country  magnate. 
And  in  a  hundred  other  ways  men  should  think  of  him 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  321 

as  powerful,  and  look  up  to  him.  He  would  go  to  church 
every  Sunday,  and  sit  in  the  big  Squire's  pew.  He  would 
be  a  magistrate  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  he  would  make 
himself  felt  on  the  County  Council.  He  would  astonish 
the  county  by  his  charities,  and  in  bad  years  by  the 
munificence  of  his  reductions  in  rents.  Perhaps  if  there 
were  a  particularly  bad  harvest,  he  would  decline  all  over  . 
his  estate  to  exact  any  rent  whatever.  Fancy  what  a 
noble  sensation  that  would  make  !  A  Duke  could  do  no 
more. 

It  was  very  clear  to  him  now  that  he  desired  to  have 
children  of  his  own, — say  two  at  least,  a  son  and  a  daugh 
ter,  or  perhaps  a  son  and  two  daughters  :  two  little  girls  * 
would  be  company  for  each  other.  As  he  prefigured  these 
new  beings,  the  son  was  to  exist  chiefly  for  purposes  of 
distinction  and  the  dignity  of  heirship,  and  the  paternal 
relations  with  him  would  be  always  somewhat  formal, 
and,  though  affectionate,  unexpansive.  But  the  little 
girls — they  would  put  their  arms  round  their  father's 
neck,  and  walk  out  with  him  to  see  the  pigs  and  the  dogs, 
and  be  the  darlings  of  his  heart.  He  would  be  an  old 
man  by  the  time  they  grew  up. 

A  beatific  vision  of  himself  took  form  in  his  mind — of 
himself  growing  grey  and  pleasurably  tired,  surrounded 
by  opulence  and  the  demonstrative  respect  of  everybody, 
smiling  with  virtuous  content  as  he  strolled  along  between 
his  two  daughters,  miracles  of  beauty  and  tenderness, 
holding  each  by  a  hand. 

The  entrance  of  a  clerk  broke  abruptly  upon  this£day- 
dream.l  He  had  a  telegram  in  his  hand,  and  Thorpe, 
rousing  himself  with  an  effort,  took  the  liver-coloured 
envelope,  and  looked  blankly  at  it.  Some  weird  appre 
hension  seized  upon  him,  as  if  he  belonged  to  the  peasant 
class  which  instinctively  yokes  telegrams  and  calamities 


322  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

together.  He  deferred  to  this  feeling  enough  to  nod  dis 
missal  to  the  clerk,  and  then,  when  he  was  again  alone, 
slowly  opened  the  message,  and  read  it  : 

"  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  September  12.  Our  friend  died  at 
Edinboro  this  morning.  See  you  at  hotel  this  evening. — 
Kervick." 

What  Thorpe  felt  at  first  was  that  his  two  daughters 
had  shrunk  from  him  with  swift,  terrible  aversion  :  they 
vanished,  along  with  every  phase  of  the  bright  vision, 
under  a  pall  of  unearthly  blackness.  He  stood  in  the 
centre  of  a  chill  solitude,  staring  stupidly  at  the  coarse, 
soft  paper. 

The  premonition,  then,  had  justified  itself  !  Something 
had  told  him  that  the  telegram  was  an  evil  thing.  A 
vaguely  superstitious  consciousness  of  being  in  the  pres 
ence  of  Fate  laid  hold  upon  him.  His  great  day  of 
triumph  had  its  blood-stain.  A  victim  had  been  needful 
— and  to  that  end  poor  simple,  silly  old  Tavender  was  a 
dead  man.  Thorpe  could  see  him, — an  embarrassing 
cadaver  eyed  by  strangers  who  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  it, — fatuous  even  in  death. 

A  sudden  rage  at  Kervick  flamed  up.  He  clearly  had 
played  the  fool — clumsily  over-plying  the  simpleton  with 
drink  till  he  had  killed  him.  The  shadow  of  murder  in 
dubitably  hung  over  the  thing.  And  then — the  crass 
witlessness  of  telegraphing  !  Already,  doubtless,  the 
police  of  Edinborough  were  talking  over  the  wires  with 
Scotland  Yard.  A  reference  to  a  death  in  Edinborough, 
in  a  telegram  from  Newcastle — it  was  incredible  that  this 
should  escape  the  eye  of  the  authorities.  Any  minute 
might  bring  a  detective  through  that  door  there — follow 
ing  into  the  Board  Room  with  his  implacable  scent  the 
clue  of  blood.  Thorpe's  fancy  pictured  this  detective  as 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  323 

a  momentarily  actual  presence — tall,  lean,  cold-eyed, 
mysteriously  calm  and  fatally  wise,  the  omniscient  terror 
of  the  magazine  short-stories. 

He  turned  faint  and  sick  under  a  spasm  of  fright.  The 
menace  of  enquiry  became  something  more  than  a  threat  : 
he  felt  it,  like  the  grip  of  a  constable  upon  his  arm. 
Everything  would  be  mercilessly  unravelled.  The  tele 
gram  of  the  idiot  Kervick  would  bring  the  police  down 
upon  him  like  a  pack  of  beagles.  The  beliefs  and  sur 
mises  of  the  idiot  Gafferson  would  furnish  them  with  the 
key  to  everything.  He  would  have  his  letter  from 
Tavender  to  show  to  the  detectives — and  the  Govern 
ment's  smart  lawyers  would  ferret  out  the  rest.  The 
death  of  Tavender — they  could  hardly  make  him  respons 
ible  for  that ;  but  it  was  the  dramatic  feature  of  this 
death  which  would  inspire  them  all  to  dig  up  everything 
about  the  fraud.  It  was  this  same  sensational  added  ele 
ment  of  the  death,  too,  which  would  count  with  a  jury. 
They  were  always  gross,  sentimental  fools,  these  juries. 
They  would  mix  up  the  death  and  the  deal  in  Rubber 
Consols,  and  in  their  fat-headed  confusion  would  say 
"  Penal  Servitude — fourteen  years."  Or  no,  it  was  the 
Judge  who  fixed  that.  But  the  Judges  were  fools,  too  ; 
they  were  too  conceited,  too  puffed  up  with  vanity,  to 
take  the  trouble  to  understand.  He  groaned  aloud  in  a 
nightmare  of  helplessness. 

The  sound  of  his  own  voice,  moaning  in  his  ears,  had  a 
magical  effect  upon  him.  He  lifted  his  head,  gazed  about 
him,  and  then  flushed  deeply.  His  nerveless  cowardice 
had  all  at  once  become  unbelievable  to  himself.  With  a 
shamed  frown  he  straightened  himself,  and  stood  thus  for 
a  long  minute,  engrossed  in  the  definite  task  of  chasing 
these  phantoms  from  his  mind.  Once  a  manly  front  was 
displayed  to  them,  they  slunk  away  with  miraculous 


324  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

facility.  He  poured  out  some  brandy,  and  sipped  it  neat, 
and  laughed  scornfully,  defiantly,  aloud. 

He  had  over  half  a  million — with  power  and  force  and 
courage  enough  to  do  with  it  what  he  liked.  He  had 
fought  luck  undauntedly,  unwearyingly,  during  all  those 
years  when  his  hands  were  empty.  Was  he  to  tremble 
and  turn  tail  now,  when  his  hands  were  full,  when  he 
was  armoured  and  weaponed  at  every  point  ?  He  was 
amazed  and  hurt,  and  still  more  enraged,  at  that  fit  of 
girlish  weakness  which  had  possessed  him.  He  could 
have  beaten  himself  with  stripes  for  it.  But  it  could 
never  happen  again — never,  never  ! 

He  told  himself  that  with  proud,  resolute  reiteration, 
as  he  got  his  hat  and  stick,  and  put  in  his  pockets  one 
or  two  papers  from  the  desk,  and  then  glanced  about  the 
Board  Room  for  what  was,  most  likely,  the  last  time. 
Here  he  had  won  his  great  victory  over  Fate,  here  he  had 
put  his  enemies  under  his  feet,  and  if  innocent  simpletons 
had  wandered  into  the  company  of  these  foes,  it  mattered 
not  a  whit  to  him  that  they  also  had  been  crushed. 
Figuratively,  he  turned  his  back  upon  them  now  ;  he  left 
them,  slain  and  trampled,  in  the  Board  Room  behind  him. 
They  no  longer  concerned  him. 

Figuratively,  too,  as  he  walked  with  firmness  to  the 
door,  he  stepped  over  the  body  of  old  Tavender,  upon  the 
threshold,  and  bestowed  upon  it  a  downward  mental 
glance,  and  passed  on.  By  the  time  he  reached  the  street, 
the  memory  of  Tavender  had  become  the  merest  shred  of 
a  myth.  As  he  strode  on,  it  seemed  to  him  that  his 
daughters  came  again,  and  took  his  hands,  and  moved 
lovingly  beside  him — lovingly  and  still  more  admiringly 
than  before. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

BY  the  autumn  of  the  following  year,  a  certain  small 
proportion  of  the  people  inhabiting  the  district  in 
Hertfordshire  which  set  its  clocks  by  the  dial  over  the 
stable-tower  of  Pellesley  Court  had  accustomed  them 
selves  to  give  the  place  its  new  name  of  High  Thorpe. 
These  were  for  the  most  part  the  folk  of  peculiarly  facile 
wits  and  ready  powers  of  adaptation,  like  pushing  small 
tradesmen,  and  the  upper  servants  in  county  houses.  An 
indolent  and  hazy  compromise  upon  Pellesley  Thorpe  had 
drifted  into  use  by  perhaps  a  larger  number.  To  the 
puzzled  conservatism  of  the  abiding  huge  majority  nearest 
to  the  soil — the  round-backed,  lumpish  men  who  tie  strings 
round  their  corduroys  under  the  knee,  and  the  strong, 
cow- faced  women  who  look  at  passers-by  on  the  road  from 
the  doors  of  dark  little  cottages,  over  radiant  patches  of 
blossoming  garden — it  seemed  safest  to  drop  family  names 
altogether,  and  call  it  merely  the  Court. 

It  stood  proudly  upon  what  was  rather  a  notable  ele 
vation  for  those  flat  parts — a  massive  mansion  of  simple 
form,  built  of  a  grey  stone  which  seemed  at  a  distance 
almost  white  against  the  deep  background  of  yews  and 
Italian  pines  behind  it.  For  many  miles  seaward  this 
pale  front  was  a  landmark.  From  the  terrace-walk  at  its 
base,  one  beheld  a  great  expanse  of  soft  green  country, 
sloping  gently  away  for  a  long  distance,  then  stretching 
out  upon  a  level  which  on  misty  days  was  interminable. 
In  bright  weather,  the  remote,  low-lying  horizon  had  a 

325 


326  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

defining  line  of  brownish-blue — and  this  stood  for  what 
was  left  of  a  primitive  forest,  containing  trees  much  older 
than  the  Norman  name  it  bore.  It  was  a  forest  which  at 
some  time,  no  doubt,  had  extended  without  a  break  till  it 
merged  into  that  of  Epping — leagues  away  to  the  south. 
The  modern  clearance  and  tillage,  however,  which  sepa 
rated  it  now  from  Kpping  had  served  as  a  curiously 
effective  barrier — more  baffling  than  the  Romans  and 
Angles  in  their  turn  had  found  the  original  wildwood. 
No  stranger  seemed  ever  to  find  his  way  into  that  broad, 
minutely-cultivated  fertile  plain  which  High  Thorpe 
looked  down  upon.  No  railway  had  pushed  its  cheapen 
ing  course  across  it.  Silent,  embowered  old  country 
roads  and  lanes  netted  its  expanse  with  hedgerows  ;  red 
points  of  tiled  roofs,  distinguishable  here  and  there  in 
clusters  among  the  darker  greens  of  orchards,  identified 
the  scattered  hamlets — all  named  in  Domesday  Book,  all 
seemingly  unchanged  since.  A  grey  square  church- tower 
emerging  from  the  rooks'  nests  ;  an  ordered  mass  of  foliage 
sheltering  the  distant  gables  and  chimneys  of  some  isolated 
house  ;  the  dim  perception  on  occasion  that  a  rustic  wag 
gon  was  in  motion  on  some  highway,  crawling  patiently 
like  an  insect — of  this  placid,  inductive  nature  were  all 
the  added  proofs  of  human  occupation  that  the  landscape 
offered. 

Mr.  Stormont  Thorpe,  on  an  afternoon  of  early  October, 
yawned  in  the  face  of  this  landscape — and  then  idly  won 
dered  a  little  at  the  mood  which  had  impelled  him  to  do 
so.  At  the  outset  of  his  proprietorship  he  had  bound 
himself,  as  by  a  point  of  honour,  to  regard  this  as  the 
finest  view  from  any  gentleman's  house  in  England. 
During  the  first  few  months  his  fidelity  had  been  taxed  a 
good  deal,  but  these  temptations  and  struggles  lay  now 
all  happily  behind  him.  He  had  satisfactorily  assimilated 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  327 

the  spirit  of  the  vista,  and  blended  it  with  his  own.  Its 
inertia,  when  one  came  to  comprehend  it,  was  undeniably 
magnificent,  and  long  ago  he  had  perceived  within  him 
self  the  growth  of  an  answering  repose,  a  responsive 
lethargy,  which  in  its  full  development  was  also  going  to 
be  very  fine.  Practically  all  the  land  this  side  of  the  im 
palpable  line  where  trees  and  houses  began  to  fade  into 
the  background  belonged  to  him  ;  there  were  whole  vil 
lages  nestling  half-concealed  under  its  shrubberies  which 
were  his  property.  As  an  investment,  these  possessions 
were  extremely  unremunerative.  Indeed,  if  one  added 
the  cost  of  the  improvements  which  ought  to  be  made,  to 
the  expenditure  already  laid  out  in  renovations,  it  was 
questionable  if  for  the  next  twenty  years  they  would  not 
represent  a  deficit  on  the  income-sheet.  But,  now  that 
he  had  laid  hold  of  the  local  character,  it  pleased  him  that 
it  should  be  so.  He  would  not  for  the  world  have  his 
gentle,  woolly-minded,  unprofitable  cottagers  transformed 
into  * '  hustlers  "  ;  it  would  wound  his  eye  to  see  the 
smoke  of  any  commercial  chimney,  the  smudge  of  any 
dividend-paying  factory,  staining  the  pure  tints  of  the 
sylvan  landscape.  He  had  truly  learned  to  love  it. 

Yet  now,  as  he  strolled  on  the  terrace  with  his  first  after- 
luncheon  cigar,  he  unaccountably  yawned  at  the  thing  he 
loved.  Upon  reflection,  he  had  gone  to  bed  rather  earlier 
the  previous  evening  than  usual.  He  had  not  been  drink 
ing  out  of  the  ordinary  ;  his  liver  seemed  right  enough. 
He  was  not  conscious  of  being  either  tired  or  drowsy. 
He  looked  again  at  the  view  with  some  fixity,  and  said  to 
himself  convincingly  that  nothing  else  in  England  could 
compare  with  it.  It  was  the  finest  thing  there  was  any 
where.  Then  he  surprised  himself  in  the  middle  of  an 
other  yawn — and  halted  abruptly.  It  occurred  tP  him 
that  he  wanted  to  travel, 


328  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

Since  his  home-coming  to  this  splendid  new  home  in  the 
previous  January,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  honeymoon  spent 
in  Algiers  and  Egypt,  he  had  not  been  out  of  England. 
There  had  been  a  considerable  sojourn  in  London,  it  is 
true,  at  what  was  described  to  him  as  the  height  of  the 
Season,  but  looking  back  upon  it,  he  could  not  think  of  it 
as  a  diversion.  It  had  been  a  restless,  over-worked,  mys 
tifying  experience,  full  of  dinners  to  people  whom  he  had 
never  seen  before,  and  laborious  encounters  with  other 
people  whom  he  did  not  particularly  want  to  see  again. 
There  had  been  no  physical  comfort  in  it  for  him,  and 
little  more  mental  satisfaction,  for  Londoners,  or  rather 
people  in  London,  seemed  all  to  be  making  an  invidious 
distinction  in  their  minds  between  him  and  his  wife.  The 
fact  that  she  continued  to  be  called  Lady  Cressage  was 
not  of  itself  important  to  him.  But  in  the  incessant  going 
about  in  London,  their  names  were  called  out  together  so 
often  that  his  ear  grew  sensitive  and  sore  to  the  touch  of 
the  footmen's  reverberations.  The  meaning  differentia 
tion  which  the  voices  of  the  servants  insisted  upon,  seemed 
inevitably  reflected  in  the  glance  and  manner  of  their 
mistresses.  More  than  anything  else,  that  made  him 
hate  London,  and  barred  the  doors  of  his  mind  to  all 
thoughts  of  buying  a  town-house. 

His  newly_-made  wife,  it  is  true,  had  not  cared  much  for 
London,  either,  and  had  agreed  to  his  decision  against  a 
town-house  almost  with  animation.  The  occasion  of  their 
return  from  the  hot  bustle  of  the  metropolis  to  these  cool 
home  shades — in  particular  the  minute  in  which,  at  a 
bend  in  the  winding  carriage-way  down  below,  they  had 
silently  regarded  together  the  spectacle  uplifted  before 
them,  with  the  big,  welcoming  house,  and  the  servants  on 
the  terrace — had  a  place  of  its  own  in  his  memory.  Edith 
had  pressed  his  arm,  as  they  sat  side  by  side  in  the 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  329 

landau,  on  the  instant  compulsion  of  a  feeling  they  had 
in  common.  He  had  never,  before  or  since,  had  quite  the 
same  assurance  that  she  shared  an  emotion  with  him. 

He  was  very  far,  however,  from  finding  fault  with  his 
wife.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  the  life  he  chose  to  lead 
that  he  should  see  a  great  deal  of  her,  and  think  a  great 
deal  about  her,  and  she  bore  both  tests  admirably.  If 
there  was  a  fault  to  be  found,  it  was  with  himself  for  his 
inability  to  altogether  understand  her.  She  played  the 
part  she  had  undertaken  to  play  with  abundant  skill  and 
discretion  and  grace,  and  even  with  an  air  of  nice  good- 
fellowship  which  had  some  of  the  aspects  of  affection. 
He  was  vaguely  annoyed  with  himself  for  having  insight 
enough  to  perceive  that  it  was  a  part  she  was  playing,  and 
yet  lacking  the  added  shrewdness  to  divine  what  her  own 
personal  attitude  to  her  r&le  was  like.  He  had  noticed 
sometimes  the  way  good  women  looked  at  their  husbands 
when  the  latter  were  talking  over  their  heads — with  the 
eager,  intent,  non-comprehending  admiration  of  an  affec 
tionate  dog.  This  was  a  look  which  he  could  not  imagine 
himself  discovering  in  his  wife's  eyes.  It  was  not  con 
ceivable  to  him  that  he  should  talk  over  her  head.  Her 
glance  not  only  revealed  an  ample  understanding  of  all  he 
said,  but  suggested  unused  reserves  of  comprehension 
which  he  might  not  fathom.  It  was  as  if,  intellectually 
no  less  than  socially,  she  possessed  a  title  and  he  remained 
an  undistinguished  plebeian! 

He  made  no  grievance,  however,  even  in  his  own 
thoughts,  of  either  inequality.  She  had  been  charmingly 
£ank  and  fair  about  the  question  of  the  names,  when  it 
first  arose.  The  usage  had  latterly  come  to  be,  she  ex 
plained,  for  a  widow  bearing  even  a  courtesy  title  derived 
from  her  late  husband,  to  retain  it  on  marrying  again.  It 
was  always  the  easiest  course  to  fall  in  with  usage,  but  if 


33O  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

he  had  any  feelings  on  the  subject,  and  preferred  to  have 
her  insist  on  being  called  Mrs.  Thorpe,  she  would  meet 
his  wishes  with  entire  willingness.  It  had  seemed  to  him, 
as  to  her,  that  it  was  wisest  to  allow  usage  to  settle  the 
matter.  Some  months  after  their  marriage  there  appeared 
in  the  papers  what  purported  to  be  an  authoritative  an 
nouncement  that  the  Queen  objected  to  the  practice  among 
ladies  who  married  a  second  time,  of  retaining  titles 
acquired  by  the  earlier  marriages,  and  that  the  lists  of 
precedency  at  Buckingham  Palace  would  henceforth  take 
this  into  account.  I^ady  Cressage  showed  this  to  her 
husband,  and  talked  again  with  candour  on  the  subject. 
She  said  she  had  always  rather  regretted  the  decision 
they  originally  came  to,  and  even  now  could  wish  that  it 
might  be  altered,  but  that  to  effect  a  change  in  the  face 
of  this  newspaper  paragraph  would  seem  servile — and  in 
this  as  in  most  other  things  he  agreed  with  her.  As  she 
said,  they  wanted  nothing  of  Buckingham  Palace. 

She  wanted  equally  little,  it  seemed,  of  the  society 
which  the  neighbouring  district  might  afford.  There  was 
a  meagre  routine  of  formal  calls  kept  in  languid  opera 
tion,  Thorpe  knew,  but  it  was  so  much  in  the  background 
that  he  never  came  in  contact  with  it.  His  own  notions 
of  the  part  he  ought  to  take  in  County  affairs  had  under 
gone  a  silent  and  unnoted,  yet  almost  sweeping,  change. 
What  little  he  saw  of  the  gentry  and  strong  local  men 
with  whom  he  would  have  to  work,  quietly  undermined 
and  dismantled  all  his  ambitions  in  that  direction.  They 
were  not  his  sort  ;  their  standards  for  the  measurement 
of  things  were  unintelligible  to  him.  He  did  not  doubt 
that,  if  he  set  himself  about  it,  he  could  impose  his  domin 
ion  upon  them,  any  more  than  he  doubted  that,  if  he 
mastered  the  Chinese  language,  he  could  lift  himself  to  be 
a  Mandarin,  but  the  one  would  be  as  unnatural  and  un- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  331 

attractive  an  enterprise  as  the  other.  He  came  to  be  upon 
nodding  terms  with  most  of  the  "  carriage-people  "  round 
about ;  some  few  he  exchanged  meaningless  words  with 
upon  occasion,  and  understood  that  his  wife  also  talked 
with,  when  it  was  unavoidable,  but  there  his  relationship 
to  the  County  ended,  and  he  was  well  pleased  that  it 
should  be  so.  It  gave  him  a  deep  satisfaction  to  see  that 
his  wife  seemed  also  well  pleased. 

He  used  the  word  ' '  seemed  ' '  in  his  inmost  musings, 
for  it  was  never  quite  certain  what  really  did  please  and 
displease  her.  It  was  always  puzzling  to  him  to  reconcile 
her  undoubted  intellectual  activity  with  the  practical 
emptiness  of  the  existence  she  professed  to  enjoy.  In  one 
direction,  she  had  indeed  a  genuine  outlet  for  her  energies, 
which  he  could  understand  her  regarding  in  the  light  of 
an  occupation.  She  was  crazier  about  flowers  and  plants 
than  anybody  he  had  ever  heard  of,  and  it  had  delighted 
him  to  make  over  to  her,  labelled  jocosely  as  the  bouquet- 
fund,  a  sum  of  money  which,  it  seemed  to  him,  might 
have  paid  for  the  hanging-gardens  of  Babylon.  It  yielded 
in  time — emerging  slowly  but  steadily  from  a  prodigious 
litter  of  cement  and  bricks  and  mortar  and  putty,  under 
the  hands  of  innumerable  masons,  carpenters,  glaziers, 
plumbers,  and  nondescript  subordinates,  all  of  whom 
talked  unwearyingly  about  nothing  at  all,  and  suffered 
no  man  to  perform  any  part  of  his  allotted  task  without 
suspending  their  own  labours  to  watch  him — an  imposing 
long  line  of  new  greenhouses,  more  than  twenty  in  number. 
The  mail-bag  was  filled  meanwhile  with  nurserymen's 
catalogues,  and  the  cart  made  incessant  journeys  to  and 
from  Punsey  station,  bringing  back  vast  straw-enwrapped 
baskets  and  bundles  and  boxes  beyond  counting,  the 
arrival  and  unpacking  of  which  was  with  Edith  the  event 
of  the  day.  About  the  reality  of  her  engrossed  interest  in 


332  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

all  the  stages  of  progress  by  which,  these  greenhouses  be 
came  crowded  museums  of  the  unusual  and  abnormal  in 
plant-life,  it  was  impossible  to  have  any  suspicion.  And 
even  after  they  were  filled  to  overflowing,  Thorpe  noted 
with  joy  that  this  interest  seemed  in  no  wise  to  flag.  She 
spent  hours  every  day  under  the  glass,  exchanging  com 
ments  and  theories  with  her  gardeners,  and  even  pulling 
things  about  with  her  own  hands,  and  other  hours  she 
devoted  almost  as  regularly  to  supervising  the  wholesale 
alterations  that  had  been  begun  in  the  gardens  outside. 
There  were  to  be  new  paths,  new  walls  with  a  southern 
exposure,  new  potting  sheds,  new  forcing  pits,  new  every 
thing — and  in  the  evenings  she  often  worked  late  over  the 
maps  and  plans  she  drew  for  all  this.  Thorpe's  mind 
found  it  difficult  to  grasp  the  idea  that  a  lady  of  such 
notable  qualities  could  be  entirely  satisfied  by  a  career 
among  seeds  and  bulbs  and  composts,  but  at  least  time 
brought  no  evidences  of  a  decline  in  her  horticultural  zeal. 
Who  knew  ?  Perhaps  it  might  go  on  indefinitely. 

As  for  himself,  he  had  got  on  very  well  without  any 
special  inclination  or  hobby.  He  had  not  done  any  of  the 
great  things  that  a  year  ago  it  had  seemed  to  him  he  would 
forthwith  do — but  his  mind  was  serenely  undisturbed  by 
regrets.  He  did  not  even  remember  with  any  distinctness 
what  these  things  were  that  he  had  been  going  to  do.  The 
routine  of  life — as  arranged  and  borne  along  by  the  wise 
and  tactful  experts  who  wore  the  livery  of  High  Thorpe — 
was  abundantly  sufficient  in  itself.  He  slept  well  now  in 
the  morning  hours,  and  though  he  remained  still,  by  com 
parison,  an  early  riser,  the  bath  and  the  shaving  and  slow 
dressing  under  the  hands  of  a  valet  consumed  comfort 
ably  a  good  deal  of  time.  Throughout  the  day  he  was 
under  the  almost  constant  observation  of  people  who  were 
calling  him  "  master"  in  their  minds,  and  watching  to 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  333 

see  how,  in  the  smallest  details  of  deportment,  a  "  master  " 
carried  himself,  and  the  consciousness  of  this  alone 
amounted  to  a  kind  of  vocation.  The  house  itself  made 
demands  upon  him  nearly  as  definite  as  those  of  the  serv 
ants.  It  was  a  house  of  huge  rooms,  high  ceilings,  and 
grandiose  fireplaces  and  stairways,  which  had  seemed  to 
him  like  a  royal  palace  when  he  first  beheld  it,  and  still 
produced  upon  him  an  effect  of  undigestible  largeness  and 
strangeness.  It  was  as  a  whole  not  so  old  as  the  agents 
had  represented  it,  by  some  centuries,  but  it  adapted 
itself  as  little  to  his  preconceived  notions  of  domesticity  as 
if  it  had  been  built  by  Druids.  The  task  of  seeming  to 
be  at  home  in  it  had  as  many  sides  to  it  as  there  were 
minutes  in  the  day — and  oddly  enough,  Thorpe  found  in 
their  study  and  observance  a  congenial  occupation. 
Whether  he  was  reading  in  the  library — where  there  was 
an  admirable  collection  of  books  of  worth — or  walking 
over  the  home-farms,  or  driving  in  his  smart  stanhope 
with  the  coachman  behind,  or  sitting  in  formal  costume 
and  dignity  opposite  his  beautiful  wife  at  the  dinner- table, 
the  sense  of  what  was  expected  of  him  was  there,  steadying 
and  restraining,  like  an  atmospheric  pressure. 

Thus  far  they  had  had  few  visitors,  and  had  accepted 
no  invitations  to  join  house-parties  elsewhere.  They 
agreed  without  speaking  about  it  that  it  was  more  their 
form  to  entertain  than  to  be  entertained,  and  certain  peo 
ple  were  coming  to  them  later  in  the  month.  These  were 
quite  wholly  of  Edith's  set  and  selection,  for  Thorpe  had 
no  friends  or  acquaintances  outside  her  circle  for  whose 
presence  he  had  any  desire — and  among  these  prospective 
guests  were  a  Duke  and  a  Duchess.  Once,  such  a  fact 
would  have  excited  Thorpe's  imagination.  He  regarded 
it  now  as  something  appropriate  under  the  circumstances, 
and  gave  it  little  further  thought.  His  placid,  satisfied 


334  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

life  was  not  dependent  upon  the  stir  of  guests  coming  and 
going,  even  though  they  were  the  great  of  the  earth.  He 
walked  on  his  spacious  terrace  after  luncheon — a  tall, 
portly,  well-groomed  figure  of  a  man,  of  relaxed,  easy 
aspect,  with  his  big  cigar,  and  his  panama  hat,  and  his 
loose  clothes  of  choice  fabrics  and  exquisite  tailoring — and 
said  to  himself  that  it  was  the  finest  view  in  England — 
and  then,  to  his  own  surprise,  caught  himself  in  the  act 
of  yawning. 

From  under  the  silk  curtains  and  awning  of  a  window- 
doorway  at  the  end  of  the  terrace,  his  wife  issued  and 
came  toward  him.  Her  head  was  bare,  and  she  had  the 
grace  and  fresh  beauty  of  a  young  girl  in  her  simple  light 
gown  of  some  summery  figured  stuff. 

1 '  What  do  you  say  to  going  off  somewhere — tomorrow 
if  you  like — travelling  abroad  ?  "  he  called  out,  as  she  ap 
proached  him.  The  idea,  only  a  moment  old  in  his  mind, 
had  grown  to  great  proportions. 

"  How  can  we  ?  "  she  asked,  upon  the  briefest  thought. 
"  They  are  coming  at  the  end  ot  the  week.  This  is  Mon 
day,  and  they  arrive  on  the  i2th — that  's  this  Saturday." 

"  So  soon  as  that  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  thought  it  was 
later.  H-m  !  I  don't  know — I  think  perhaps  I  '11  go  up 
to  London  this  evening.  I  'm  by  way  of  feeling  restless 
all  at  once.  Will  you  come  up  with  me  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  can't  think  of  anything  in 
lyondon  that  would  be  tolerable." 

He  gave  a  vague  little  laugh.  "  I  shall  probably  hate 
it  myself  when  I  get  there,"  he  speculated.  "There 
is  n't  anybody  I  want  to  see — there  is  n't  anything  I 
want  to  do.  I  don' t  know — perhaps  it  might  liven  me  up. ' ' 

Her  face  took  on  a  look  of  enquiring  gravity.  "  Are 
you  getting  tired  of  it,  then  ?  "  She  put  the  question 
gently,  almost  cautiously. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  335 

He  reflected  a  little.  '  '  Why  —  no,  '  '  he  answered,  as  if 
reasoning  to  himself.  "  Of  course  I  'm  not.  This  is 
what  I  've  always  wanted.  It  's  my  idea  of  life  to  a  '  t.' 
Only  —  I  suppose  everything  needs  a  break  in  it  now  and 
then  —  if  only  for  the  comfort  of  getting  back  into  the  old 
rut  again." 

"  The  rut  —  yes,'*  she  commented,  musingly.  "  Appar 
ently  there  's  always  a  rut." 

Thorpe  gave  her  the  mystified  yet  uncomplaining 
glance  she  knew  so  well  in  his  eyes.  For  once,  the  im 
pulse  to  throw  hidden  things  up  into  his  range  of  view 
prevailed  with  her. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  with  a  confused  half-smile  at 
the  novelty  of  her  mood  for  elucidation,  "  I  fancied  a  rut 
was  the  one  thing  there  could  be  no  question  about  with 
you.  I  had  the  notion  that  you  were  incapable  of  ruts  —  • 
and  conventional  grooves.  I  thought  you  —  as  Carlyle 
puts  it  —  I  thought  you  were  a  man  who  had  swallowed  all 
the  formulas.  '  ' 

Thorpe  looked  down  at  his  stomach  doubtfully.  "  I  see 
what  you  mean,"  he  said  at  last,  but  in  a  tone  without 
any  note  of  conviction. 

'  *  I  doubt  it,  '  '  she  told  him,  with  light  readiness  —  *  '  for 
I  don't  see  myself  what  I  mean.  I  forget  indeed  what 
it  was  I  said.  And  so  you  think  you  '11  go  up  to  town 
tonight?  " 

A  sudden  comprehension  of  what  was  slipping  away 
from  his  grasp  aroused  him.  "  No  —  no,"  he  urged  her, 
"  don't  forget  what  it  was  you  said  !  I  wish  you  'd  talk 
more  with  me  about  that.  It  was  what  I  wanted  to 


You  never  tell  me  what  you  're  really  thinking  about." 

She  received  the  reproach  with  a  mildly  incredulous 
smile  in  her  eyes.  "  Yes  —  I  know  —  who  was  it  used  to 
scold  me  about  that?  Oh"  —  she  seemed  suddenly  re- 


THE    MARKET-PLACE 

minded  of  something — "  I  was  forgetting  to  mention  it. 
I  have  a  letter  from  Celia  Madden.  She  is  back  in  Eng 
land  ;  she  is  coming  to  us  Saturday,  too. ' ' 

He  put  out  his  lips  a  trifle.  "  That  's  all  right,"  he 
objected,  "  but  what  has  it  got  to  do  with  what  we  were 
talking  about  ?  ' ' 

'  Talking  about  ?  "  she  queried,  with  a  momentarily 
blank  countenance.  "  Oh,  she  used  to  bully  me  about 
my  deceit,  and  treachery,  and  similar  crimes.  But  I  shall 
be  immensely  glad  to  see  her.  I  always  fight  with  her, 
but  I  think  I  like  her  better  than  any  other  woman  alive." 

"  I  like  her  too,"  Thorpe  was  impelled  to  say,  with  a 
kind  of  solemnity.  "  She  reminds  me  of  some  of  the 
happiest  hours  in  my  life." 

His  wife,  after  a  brief  glance  into  his  face,  laughed 
pleasantly,  if  with  a  trace  of  flippancy.  ' '  You  say  nice 
things, ' '  she  observed,  slightly  inclining  her  head.  ' '  But 
now,  that  Celia  is  coming,  it  would  be  as  well  to  have 
another  man.  It 's  such  dreadfully  short  notice,  though. ' ' 

* '  I  daresay  your  father  could  come,  all  right, ' '  Thorpe 
suggested.  "  I  'd  rather  have  him  than  almost  anyone 
else.  Would  you  mind  asking  him — or  shall  I  ?  ' ' 

An  abrupt  silence  marked  this  introduction  of  a  subject 
upon  which  the  couple  had  differed  openly.  Thorpe, 
through  processes  unaccountable  to  himself,  had  passed 
'from  a  vivid  dislike  of  General  Kervick  to  a  habit  of  mind 
in  which  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  having  him  about.  The 
General  had  been  twice  to  High  Thorpe,  and  on  each  oc 
casion  had  so  prolonged  his  stay  that,  in  retrospect,  the 
period  of  his  absence  seemed  inconsiderable.  The  master 
now,  thinking  upon  it  in  this  minute  of  silence,  was  con 
scious  of  having  missed  him  greatly.  He  would  not  have 
been  bored  to  the  extremity  of  threatening  to  go  to  Lon 
don,  if  Kervick  had  been  here.  The  General  was  a 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  337 

gentleman,  and  yet  had  the  flexible  adaptability  of  £  re 
tainer  ;  he  had  been  trained  in  discipline,  and  hence  knew 
how  to  defer  without  becoming  fulsome  or  familiar  ;  he 
was  a  man  of  the  world  and  knew  an  unlimited  number 
of  racy  stories,  and  even  if  he  repeated  some  of  them 
unduly,  they  were  better  than  no  stories  at  all.  And 
then,  there  was  his  matchless,  unfailing  patience  in  play 
ing  chess  or  backgammon  or  draughts  or  bezique,  what 
ever  he  perceived  that  the  master  desired. 

"  If  you  really  wish  it,"  Edith  said  at  last,  coldly. 

"  But  that  's  what  I  don't  understand,"  Thorpe  urged 
upon  her  with  some  vigour.  <(  If  I  like  him,  I  don't  see 
why  his  own  daughter ' ' 

"  Oh,  need  we  discuss  it  ?  "  she  broke  in,  impatiently. 
"  If  I  'm  an  unnatural  child,  why  then  I  am  one,  and  may 
it  not  be  allowed  to  pass  at  that  ?  "  A  stormy  kind  of 
smile  played  upon  her  beautifully-cut  lips  as  she  added  : 
"  Surely  one's  filial  emotions  are  things  to  be  taken  for 
granted — relieved  from  the  necessity  of  explanation." 

Thorpe  grinned  faintly  at  the  hint  of  pleasantry,  but 
he  did  not  relinquish  his  point.  "  Well — unless  you 
really  veto  the  thing — I  think  I  'd  like  to  tell  him  to 
come,"  he  said,  with  composed  obstinacy.  Upon  an  after 
thought  he  added :  "  There 's  no  reason  why  he  should  n't 
meet  the  Duke,  is  there  ?  " 

"  No  specific  reason,"  she  returned,  with  calm  coolness 
of  tone  and  manner.  ' '  And  certainly  I  do  not  see  myself 
in  the  part  of  Madame  Veto. ' ' 

"  All  right  then — I  '11  send  him  a  wire,"  said  Thorpe. 
His  victory  made  him  uneasy,  yet  he  saw  no  way  of 
abandoning  it  with  decorum. 

As  the  two,  standing  in  a  silence  full  of  tacit  constraint, 
looked  aimlessly  away  from  the  terrace,  they  saw  at  the 
same  instant  a  vehicle  with  a  single  horse  coming  rather 


338  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

briskly  up  the  driveway,  some  hundreds  of  yards  below. 
It  was  recognizable  at  once  as  the  local  trap  from  Punsey 
station,  and  as  usual  it  was  driven  by  a  boy  from  the  vil 
lage.  Seated  beside  this  lad  was  a  burly,  red-bearded 
man  in  respectable  clothes,  who,  to  judge  from  the  tin- 
box  and  travelling-bags  fastened  on  behind,  seemed  com 
ing  to  High  Thorpe  to  stay. 

:<  Who  on  earth  is  that  ?  "  asked  Thorpe,  wonderingly. 
The  man  was  obviously  of  the  lower  class,  yet  there  seemed 
something  about  him  which  invited  recognition. 

"  Presumably  it 's  the  new  head-gardener,"  she  replied 
with  brevity. 

Her  accent  recalled  to  Thorpe  the  fact  that  there  had 
been  something  disagreeable  in  their  conversation,  and 
the  thought  of  it  was  unpleasant  to  him.  "  Why,  I 
did  n't  know  you  had  a  new  man  coming,"  he  said,  turn 
ing  to  her  with  an  overture  of  smiling  interest. 

'  Yes,"  she  answered,  and  then,  as  if  weighing  the 
proffered  propitiation  and  rejecting  it,  turned  slowly  and 
went  into  the  house. 

The  trap  apparently  ended  its  course  at  some  back 
entrance  :  he  did  not  see  it  again.  He  strolled  indoors, 
after  a  little,  and  told  his  man  to  pack  a  bag  for  I^ondon, 
and  order  the  stanhope  to  take  him  to  the  train. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

IN  the  early  morning,  long  before  any  of  the  hotel  people 
had  made  themselves  heard  moving  about,  Thorpe 
got  up. 

It  was  a  long  time  since  he  had  liked  himself  and  his 
surroundings  so  little.  The  bed  seemed  all  right  to  the 
eye,  and  even  to  the  touch,  but  he  had  slept  very  badly 
in  it,  none  the  less.  The  room  was  luxuriously  furnished, 
as  was  the  entire  suite,  but  it  was  all  strange  and  uncom 
fortable  to  his  senses.  The  operation  of  shaving  and 
dressing  in  solitude  produced  an  oppression  of  loneliness. 
He  regretted  not  having  brought  his  man  with  him  for 
this  reason,  and  then,  upon  meditation,  for  other  reasons. 
A  person  of  his  position  ought  always  to  have  a  servant 
with  him.  The  hotel  people  must  have  been  surprised  at 
his  travelling  unattended — and  the  people  at  High  Thorpe 
must  also  have  thought  it  strange.  It  flashed  across  his 
mind  that  no  doubt  his  wife  had  most  of  all  thought  it 
strange.  How  would  she  explain  to  herself  his  sudden, 
precipitate  journey  to  London  alone  ?  Might  she  not 
quite  naturally  put  an  unpleasant  construction  upon  it  ? 
It  was  bad  enough  to  have  to  remember  that  they  had 
parted  in  something  like  a  tiff  ;  he  found  it  much  worse  to 
be  fancying  the  suspicions  with  which  she  would  be  turn 
ing  over  his  mysterious  absence  in  her  mind. 

He  went  downstairs  as  speedily  as  possible  and,  dis 
covering  no  overt  signs  of  breakfast  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
restaurant,  passed  out  and  made  his  way  to  the  Embank- 

339 


34O  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

merit.  This  had  been  a  favourite  walk  of  his  in  the  old 
days — but  he  considered  it  now  with  an  unsympathetic 
eye.  It  seemed  a  dry  and  haggard  and  desolate-looking 
place  by  comparison  with  his  former  impressions  of  it. 
The  morning  was  grey-skied,  but  full  of  a  hard  quality 
of  light,  which  brought  out  to  the  uncompromising  utter 
most  the  dilapidated  squalor  of  the  Surrey  side.  The 
water  was  low,  and  from  the  mud  and  ooze  of  the  ugly 
opposite  shore,  or  perhaps  from  the  discoloured  stream 
itself,  there  proceeded  a  smell  which  offended  his  unaccus 
tomed  nostril.  A  fitful,  gusty  wind  was  blowing  from  the 
east,  and  ever  and  again  it  gathered  dust  in  eddying 
swoops  from  the  roadway,  and  flung  it  in  his  face. 

He  walked  on  toward  the  City,  without  any  conscious 
purpose,  and  with  no  very  definite  reflections.  It  oc 
curred  to  him  that  if  his  wife  did  impute  to  him  some  un 
worthy  motive  in  stealing  off  to  London,  and  made  herself 
unhappy  in  doing  so — that  would  at  least  provide  the 
compensation  of  showing  that  she  cared.  The  thought, 
however,  upon  examination,  contained  very  meagre  ele 
ments  of  solace.  He  could  not  in  the  least  be  sure  about 
any  of  the  workings  of  her  mind.  There  might  be  more 
or  less  annoyance  mixed  up  this  morning  with  the  secret 
thoughts  she  had  concerning  him — or  she  might  not  be 
bothering  her  head  about  him  at  all.  This  latter  con 
tingency  had  never  presented  itself  so  frankly  to  him 
before.  He  looked  hard  at  it,  and  saw  more  semblances 
of  probability  about  it  than  he  liked.  It  might  very  well 
be  that  she  was  not  thinking  about  him  one  way  or 
the  other. 

A  depressing  consciousness  that  practically  nobody  need 
think  about  him  pervaded  his  soul.  Who  cared  what  he 
said  or  did  or  felt  ?  The  City  had  forgotten  his  very  ex 
istence.  In  the  West  End,  only  here  and  there  some  per- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  $4* 

son  might  chance  to  remember  his  name  as  that  of  some 
rich  bounder  who  had  married  Lady  Cressage.  Nowhere 
else  in  England,  save  one  dull  strip  of  agricultural  blank- 
ness  in  a  backward  home  county,  was  there  a  human  be 
ing  who  knew  anything  whatever  about  him.  And  this 
was  his  career  !  It  was  for  this  that  he  had  planned  that 
memorable  campaign,  and  waged  that  amazing  series  of 
fortnightly  battles,  never  missing  victory,  never  failing 
at  any  point  of  the  complicated  strategy,  and  crowning  it 
all  with  a  culminating  triumph  which  had  been  the  wan 
der  and_admjration  of  the  whole  finanjdaL.wojdd  !  A  few 
score  of  menials  or  interested  inferiors  bowed  to  him  ;  he 
drove  some  good  horses,  and  was  attentively  waited  upon, 
and  had  a  never-failing  abundance  of  good  things  to  eat 
and  drink  and  smoke.  Hardly  anything  more  than  that, 
when  you  came  to  think  of  it — and  the  passing  usufruct 
of  all  these  things  could  be  enjoyed  by  any  fool  who  had 
a  ten-pound  note  in  his  pocket  ! 

What  gross  trick  had  the  fates  played  on  him  ?  He  had 
achieved  power — and  where  was  that  power  ?  What  had 
he  done  with  it  ?  What  could  he  do  with  it  ?  He  had  an 
excess  of  wealth,  it  was  true,  but  in  what  way  could  it 
command  an  excess  of  enjoyment  ?  The  very  phrase  was 
a  paradox,  asTie  dimly  perceived.  There  existed  only  a 
narrow  margin  of  advantage  in  favour  of  the  rich  man. 
He  could  eat  and  drink  a  little  more  and  a  little  better 
than  the  poor  man  ;  he  could  have  better  clothes,  and  lie 
abed  later  in  the  morning,  and  take  life  easier  all  round — 
but  only  within  hard  and  fast  bounds.  There  was  an 
ascertained  limit  beyond  which  the  millionaire  could  no 
more  stuff  himself  with  food  and  wine  than  could  the  beg 
gar.  It  might  be  pleasant  to  take  an  added  hour  or  two 
in  bed  in  the  morning,  but  to  lie  in  bed  all  day  would  be 
an  infliction.  So  it  ran  indefinitely — this  thin  selvedge 


I 


342  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

of  advantage  which  money  could  buy — with  deprivation 
on  the  one  side,  and  surfeit  on  the  other.  Candidly,  was 
it  not  true  that  more  happiness  lay  in  winning  the  way 
out  of  deprivation,  than  in  inventing  safeguards  against 
satiety  ?  The  poor  man  succeeding  in  making  himself 
rich — at  numerous  stages  of  the  operation  there  might  be 
made  a  moral  snap-shot  of  the  truly  happy  man.  But 
not  after  he  had  reached  the  top.  Then  disintegration 
began  at  once.  The  contrast  between  what  he  supposed 
he  could  do,  and  what  he  finds  it  possible  to  do,  is  too 
vast  to  be  accepted  with  equanimity. 

It  must  be  said  that  after  breakfast — a  meal  which  he 
found  in  an  Italian  restaurant  of  no  great  cleanliness  or 
opulence  of  pretension,  and  ate  with  an  almost  novel  relish 
— Thorpe  took  somewhat  less  gloomy  views  of  his  position. 
He  still  walked  eastward,  wandering  into  warehouse  and 
shipping  quarters  skirting  the  river,  hitherto  quite  un 
known  to  him,  and  pursuing  in  an  idle,  inconsequent 
fashion  his  meditations.  He  established  in  his  mind  the 
proposition  that  since  an  excess  of  enjoyment  was  impos 
sible — since  one  could  not  derive  a  great  block  of  happi 
ness  from  the  satisfaction  of  the  ordinary  appetites,  but  at 
the  most  could  only  gather  a  little  from  each — the  desira 
ble  thing  was  to  multiply  as  much  as  might  be  those  tastes 
and  whims  and  fancies  which  passed  for  appetites,  and 
thus  expand  the  area  of  possible  gratification. 

This  seemed  very  logical  indeed,  but  it  did  not  apply 
itself  to  his  individual  needs  with  much  facility.  What 
did  he  want  to  do  that  he  had  not  done  ?  It  was  difficult 
for  him  to  say.  Perhaps  it  was  chandlers'  signs  and  win 
dows  about  him,  and  the  indefinable  seafaring  preoccupa 
tion  suggested  by  the  high- walled,  narrow  streets,  whick 
raised  the  question  of  a  yacht  in  his  mind.  Did  he  want 
a  yacht  ?  He  could  recall  having  once  dwelt  with  great 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  343 

fondness  upon  such  a  project  :  doubtless  it  would  still  be 
full  of  attractions  for  him.  He  liked  the  water,  and  the 
water  liked  him  —  and  he  was  better  able  now  than  formerly 
to  understand  how  luxurious  existence  can  be  made  in 
modern  private  ships.  He  decided  that  he  would  have  a  / 
yacht  —  and  then  perceived  that  the  decision  brought  no 
exhilaration.  He  was  no  happier  than  before.  He  could  \ 
decide  that  he  would  have  anything  he  chose  to  name  — 
and  it  would  in  no  whit  lighten  his  mood.  The  yacht 
might  be  as  grand  as  High  Thorpe,  and  relatively  as 
spacious  and  well  ordered,  but  would  he  not  grow  as  tired 
of  the  one  as  he  had  of  the  other  ? 

He  stopped  short  at  this  blunt  self-expression  of  some 
thing  he  had  never  admitted  to  himself.  Was  he  indeed 
tired  of  High  Thorpe  ?  He  had  assured  his  wife  to  the 
contrary  yesterday.  He  reiterated  the  assurance  to  his 
own  mind  now.  It  was  instead  that  he  was  tired  of  him 
self.  He  carried  a  weariness  about  with  him, 


looked  at  everything  with  apathetic  eyes,  and  cared  for 
nothing.  Some  nameless  paralysis  Tiad  "settled  upon  his 
capacity  for  amusement  and  enjoyment,  and  atrophied  it. 
He  had  had  the  power  to  expand  his  life  to  the  farthest 
boundaries  of  rich  experience  and  sensation,  and  he  had 
deliberately  shrunk  into  a  sort  of  herbaceous  nonentity, 
whom  nobody  knew  or  cared  about.  He  might  have  had 
London  at  his  beck  and  call,  and  yet  of  all  that  the 
metropolis  might  mean  to  a  millionaire,  he  had  been  able 
to  think  of  nothing  better  than  that  it  should  send  old 
Kervick  to  him,  to  help  beguile  his  boredom  with  domi 
noes  and  mess-room  stories  !  Pah  !  He  was  disgusted 
with  himself. 

Striking  out  a  new  course,  with  the  Monument  as  his 
guide,  he  presently  came  into  a  part  of  the  City  which 
had  a  certain  familiarity  for  him.  He  walked  up  St. 


344  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

S within' s  L,ane,  looking  at  the  strange  forms  of  foreign 
fruit  exposed  at  the  shop-doors,  and  finding  in  them  some 
fleeting  recurrence  of  the  hint  that  travel  was  what  he 
needed.  Then  he  stopped,  to  look  through  the  railings 
and  open  gateway  at  an  enclosure  on  the  left,  and  the 
substantial,  heavily-respectable  group  of  early  Victorian 
buildings  beyond.  Some  well-dressed  men  were  standing 
talking  in  one  of  the  porches.  The  stiff  yellowish-stucco 
pilasters  of  this  entrance,  and  the  tall  uniformed  figure 
of  the  porter  in  the  shadow,  came  into  the  picture  as  he 
observed  it ;  they  gave  forth  a  suggestion  of  satisfied 
smugness — of  orderly  but  altogether  unillumined  routine. 
Nothing  could  be  more  commonplace  to  the  eye. 

Yet  to  his  imagination,  eighteen  months  before,  what 
mysterious  marvels  of  power  had  lurked  hidden  behind 
those  conventional  portals  !  Within  those  doors,  in  some 
inner  chamber,  sat  men  whose  task  it  was  to  direct  the 
movements  of  the  greatest  force  the  world  had  ever  known. 
They  and  their  cousins  in  Paris  and  Frankfort,  or  wher 
ever  they  lived,  between  them  wielded  a  vaster  authority 
than  all  the  Parliaments  of  the  earth.  They  could  change 
a  government,  or  crush  the  aspirations  of  a  whole  people, 
or  decide  a  question  of  peace  or  war,  by  the  silent  dictum 
of  their  little  family  council.  He  remembered  now  how 
he  had  stood  on  this  same  spot,  and  stared  with  fascinated 
gaze  at  this  quadrangle  of  dull  houses,  and  pondered  upon 
what  it  must  feel  like  to  be  a  Rothschild — and  that  was 
only  a  little  over  a  year  ago  ! 

There  was  no  sense  of  fascination  whatever  in  his  present 
gaze.  He  found  himself  regarding  instead,  with  a  kind 
of  detached  curiosity,  the  little  knot  of  men  in  frock-coats 
and  silk-hats  who  stood  talking  in  the  doorway.  It  was 
barely  ten  o'clock,  yet  clearly  business  was  proceeding 
within,  One  of  these  persons  whom  he  beheld  might  be 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  345 

a  Rothschild,  for  aught  he  knew  ;  at  any  rate,  it  was  pre 
sumable  that  some  of  them  were  on  the  premises.  He 
had  heard  it  said  that  the  very  head  of  the  house  listened 
to  quotations  from  the  tape  while  he  ate  his  luncheon,  and 
interrupted  his  conversations  with  the  most  important  of 
non-commercial  callers,  to  make  or  refuse  bargains  in 
shares  offered  by  brokers  who  came  in.  What  impulse 
lay  behind  this  extraordinary  devotion  to  labour  ?  To 
ward  what  conceivable  goal  could  it  be  striving  ? 

To  work  hard  and  risk  great  things  for  the  possession  of  I 
a  fortune,  in  order  to  enjoy  it  afterward — he  could  under 
stand  how  that  attracted  men.  But  to  possess  already 
the  biggest  of  human  fortunes,  and  still  work — that 
baffled  him.  He  wished  he  knew  some  of  those  men  in 
there,  especially  if  they  belonged  to  the  place.  It  would 
be  wonderfully  interesting  to  get  at  the  inner  point  of  view 
of  New  Court. 

A  little  later,  in  Colin  Semple's  office,  he  sat  down  to 
await  the  coming  of  that  gentleman.  '  Then  he  does  n't 
get  here  so  early  nowadays  ?  "  he  suggested  to  the  head- 
clerk  who,  with  instant  recognition  and  exaggerated 
deference,  had  ushered  him  into  this  furthermost  private 
room.  It  pleased  him  to  assume  that  prosperity  had  re 
laxed  the  Scotchman's  vigilance. 

' '  Oh  yes,  sir, ' '  the  clerk  replied.  "  A  bit  earlier  if  any 
thing,  as  a  rule.  But  I  think  he  is  stopping  at  his  solici 
tors  on  his  way  to  the  City.  I  hope  you  are  very  well, 
sir." 

"  Yes— I  'm  very  fit— thanks,"  Thorpe  said,  listlessly, 
and  the  other  left  him. 

Mr.  Semple,  when  at  last  he  arrived,  bustled  into  the 
room  with  unaffected  gratification  at  the  news  he  had 
heard  without.  "  Well,  well,  Thorpe  man  !  "  he  cried, 
and  shook  hands  cordially.  "  This  is  fine  !  If  I  'd  only 


346  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

known  you  were  in  town  !  Why  would  n't  you  have 
told  me  you  were  coming  ?  I  'd  never  have  kept  you 
waiting." 

Thorpe  laughed  wearily.  "  I  hardly  knew  I  was  in 
town  myself.  I  only  ran  up  last  night.  I  thought  it 
would  amuse  me  to  have  a  look  round — but  things  seem 
as  dull  as  ditchwater." 

1 '  Oh  no, ' '  said  Semple,  '  *  the  autumn  is  opening  verra 
well  indeed.  There  are  more  new  companies,  and  a  bet 
ter  public  subscription  all  round,  than  for  any  first  week 
of  October  I  remember.  Westralians  appear  bad  on  the 
face  of  things,  it  's  true — but  don't  believe  all  you  hear 
of  them.  There  's  more  than  the  suspicion  of  a  '  rig '  there. 
Besides,  you  have  n't  a  penny  in  them." 

"  I  was  n't  thinking  of  that,"  Thorpe  told  him,  with 
comprehensive  vagueness.  "  Well,  I  suppose  you  're  still 
coining  money,"  he  observed,  after  a  pause. 

"  Keeping  along — keeping  along,"  the  broker  replied, 
cheerfully.  "  I  canna  complain." 

Thorpe  looked  at  him  with  a  meditative  frown.  ' '  Well, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it,  after  you  've  got  it  ?  " 
he  demanded,  almost  with  sharpness. 

The  Scotchman,  after  a  surprised  instant,  smiled.  ' '  Oh, 
I  '11  just  keep  my  hands  on  it,"  he  assured  him,  lightly. 

"  That  is  n't  what  I  mean,"  Thorpe  said,  groping  after 
what  he  did  mean,  with  sullen  tenacity,  among  his 
thoughts.  His  large,  heavy  face  exhibited  a  depressed 
gravity  which  attracted  the  other's  attention. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  Semple  asked  quickly.  "  Has 
anything  gone  wrong  with  you  ?  " 

Thorpe  slowly  shook  his  head.  "  What  better  off  do 
you  think  you  '11  be  with  six  figures  than  you  are  with 
five  ?  "  he  pursued,  with  dogmatic  insistence. 

Semple  shrugged  his  shoulders.     He  seemed  to  have 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  347 

grown  much  brighter  and  gayer  of  mood  in  this  past 
twelvemonth.  Apparently  he  was  somewhat  stouter, 
and  certainly  there  was  a  mellowed  softening  of  his  sharp 
glance  and  shrewd  smile.  It  was  evident  that  his  friend's 
mood  somewhat  nonplussed  him,  but  his  good-humour 
was  unflagging. 

"  It  's  the  way  we  're  taught  at  school,"  he  hazarded, 
genially.  "  In  all  the  arithmetics  six  beats  five,  and 
seven  beats  six. ' ' 

'  They  're  wrong,"  Thorpe  declared,  and  then  con 
sented  to  laugh  in  a  grudging,  dogged  way  at  his  friend's 
facial  confession  of  puzzlement.  "  What  I  mean  is — 
what  's  the  good  of  piling  up  money,  while  you  can't  pile 
up  the  enjoyments  it  will  buy  ?  What  will  a  million  give 
you,  that  the  fifth  of  it,  or  the  tenth  of  it,  won't  give  you 
just  as  well  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  Semple,  with  a  gleam  of  comprehension 
in  his  glance.  "  So  you  've  come  to  that  frame  of  mind, 
have  you  ?  Why  does  a  man  go  on  and  shoot  five  hun* 
dred  pheasants,  when  he  can  eat  only  one  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh,  if  you  like  the  mere  making  of  money,  I  've  no 
thing  more  to  say,"  Thorpe  responded,  with  a  touch  of 
resentment.  "  I  've  always  thought  of  you  as  a  man  like 
myself,  who  wanted  to  make  his  pile  and  then  enjoy 
himself." 

The  Scotchman  laughed  joyously.  "Enjoy  myself! 
Like  you  !  "  he  cried.  "  Man,  you  're  as  doleful  as  a 
mute  at  a  laird's  funeral  !  What  's  come  over  you  ?  I 
know  what  it  is.  You  go  and  take  a  course  of  German 
waters ' ' 

"  Oh,  that  be  damned  !  "  Thorpe  objected,  gloomily. 
"  I  tell  you  I  'm  all  right.  Only — only — God  !  I  've  a 
great  notion  to  go  and  get  drunk." 

Colin  Semple  viewed  his  companion  with  a  more  sym- 


348  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

pathetic  expression.  "  I  'm  sorry  you  're  so  hipped,"  he 
said,  in  gentle  tones.  "  It  can't  be  more  than  some  pass 
ing  whimsy.  You  're  in  no  real  trouble,  are  you  ? — no 
family  trouble  ?  ' ' 

Thorpe  shook  his  head.  '  *  The  whole  thing  is  rot  !  "  he 
affirmed,  enigmatically. 

'  *  What  whole  thing  ? ' '  The  broker  perched  on  the 
edge  of  his  desk,  and  with  patient  philosophy  took  him 
up.  ' '  Do  you  mean  eighty  thousand  a  year  is  rot  ?  That 
depends  upon  the  man  who  has  it. ' ' 

"  I  know  that  well  enough,"  broke  in  the  other,  heavily. 
11  That  's  what  I  'm  kicking  about.  I  'm  no  good  !  " 

Semple,  looking  attentively  down  upon  him,  pursed  his 
lips  in  reflection.  '  That  's  not  the  case,"  he  observed 
with  argumentative  calmness.  "  You  're  a  great  deal  of 
good.  I  'm  not  so  sure  that  what  you  've  been  trying  to 
do  is  any  good,  though.  Come  ! — I  read  you  like  large 
print.  You  've  set  out  to  live  the  life  of  a  rich  country 
squire — and  it  has  n't  con^e  off.  It  could  n't  come  off ! 
I  never  believed  it  would.  You  have  n't  the  taste^ for  it 
inbred  in  your  bones.  You  have  n't  the  thousand  little 
habits  and  interests  that  they  take  in  with  their  mother's 
milk,  and  that  make  such  a  life  possible.  When  you  look 
at  a  hedge,  you  don't  think  of  it  as  something  to  worry 
live  animals  out  of.  When  you  see  one  of  your  labourers, 
you  don't  care  who  his  father  was,  or  which  dairymaid 
his  uncle  ought  to  have  married,  if  he  had  wanted  to  get 
a  certain  cottage.  You  don't  want  to  know  the  name  of 
everybody  whose  roof  you  can  see  ;  much  less  could  you 
remember  them,  and  talk  about  them,  and  listen  to  gossip 
about  them,  year  after  year.  It  is  n't  a  passion  in  your 
blood  to  ride  to  hounds,  and  to  shoot,  and  all  that.  It 
does  n't  come  to  you  by  tradition — and  you  have  n't  the 
vacancy  of  mind  which  might  be  a  substitute  for  tradition. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  349 

What  are  you  doing  in  the  country,  then  ?  Just  eating 
too  much,  and  sitting  about,  and  getting  fat  and  stupid. 
If  you  want  the  truth,  there  it  is  for  you." 

Thorpe,  putting  out  his  lips  judicially,  inclined  upon 
reflection  to  the  view  that  this  was  the  truth.  "  That  's 
all  right,  as  far  as  it  goes, ' '  he  assented,  with  hesitation. 
"  But  what  the  hell  else  is  there  ?  " 

The  little  Scotchman  had  grown  too  interested  in  his 
diagnosis  to  drop  it  in  an  incomplete  state.  <c  A  year 
ago,"  he  went  on,  ((  you  had  won  your  victories  like  a 
veritable  Napoleon.  You  had  everything  in  your  own 
hands  ;  Napoleon  himself  was  not  more  the  master  of 
what  he  saw  about  him  than  you  were.  And  then  what 
did  you  do  ?  You  voluntarily  retired  yourself  to  your 
Elba.  It  was  n't  that  you  were  beaten  and  driven  there 
by  others  ;  you  went  of  your  own  accord.  Have  you  ever 
thought,  Thorpe,  of  jthis  ?  Napoleon  was  the  greatest 
man  of  his  age — one  of  the  greatest  men  of  all  ages — not 
only  in  war  but  in  a  hundred  other  ways.  He  spent  the 
last  six  years  of  his  life  at  St.  Helena — in  excellent  health 
and  with  companions  that  he  talked  freely  to — and  in  all 
the  extraordinarily  copious  reports  of  his  conversations 
there,  we  don't  get  a  single  sentence  worth  repeating.  If 
you  read  it,  you  '11  see  he  talked  like  a  dull,  ordinary 
body.  The  greatness  had  entirely  evaporated  from  him, 
the  moment  he  was  put  on  an  island  where  he  had  no 
thing  to  do." 

"Yes-s,"  said  Thorpe,  thoughtfully.  He  accepted 
the  application  without  any  qualms  about  the  splendour 
of  the  comparison  it  rested  upon.  He  had  done  the  great 
things,  just  as  Semple  said,  and  there  was  no  room  for 
false  modesty  about  them  in  his  mind.  ' '  The  trouble  is, ' ' 
he  began,  "  that  I  did  what  I  had  always  thought  I 
wanted  to  do  most.  I  was  quite  certain  in  my  mind  that 


35O  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

that  was  what  I  wanted.  And  if  we  say  now  that  I  was 
wrong — if  we  admit  that  that  was  n't  what  I  really 
wanted — why  then,  God  knows  what  it  is  I  do  want. 
I  '11  be  hanged  if /do!" 

' '  Come  back  to  the  City, ' '  Semple  told  him.  ' '  That  's 
where  you  belong." 

'  *  No— no  ! ' '  Thorpe  spoke  with  emphasis.  ' '  That 's 
where  you  're  all  off.  I  don't  belong  in  the  City  at  all. 
I  hate  the  whole  outfit.  What  the  devil  amusement 
would  it  be  to  me  to  take  other  men's  money  away  from 
them  ?  I  'd  be  wanting  all  the  while  to  give  it  back  to 
them.  And  certainly  I  would  n't  get  any  fun  out  of  their 
taking  my  money  away  from  me.  Besides,  it  does  n't 
entertain  me.  I  've  no  taste  at  all  for  it.  I  never  look 
at  a  financial  paper  now.  I  could  no  more  interest  myself 
in  all  that  stuff  again  than  I  could  fly.  That  's  the  hell 
of  it — to  be  interested  in  anything. ' ' 

"  Go  in  for  politics,"  the  other  suggested,  with  less 
warmth. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Thorpe  commented,  with  a  lingering 
tone.  "  Perhaps  I  ought  to  think  more  about  that.  By 
the  way,  what  's  Plowden  doing  ?  I  've  lost  all  track  of 
him." 

"  Abroad  somewhere,  I  fancy,"  Semple  replied.  His 
manner  exhibited  a  profound  indifference.  '  When  his 
mother  died  he  came  into  something — I  don't  know  how 
much.  I  don't  think  I  've  seen  him  since — and  that 
must  have  been  six  months  and  more  ago. ' ' 

'  Yes.  I  heard  about  it  at  the  time,"  the  other  said. 
"  It  must  be  about  that.  His  sister  and  brother — the 
young  Plowdens — they  're  coming  to  us  at  the  end  of  the 
week,  I  believe.  You  did  n't  hit  it  off  particularly  with 
Plowden,  eh?" 

Semple  emitted  a  contemptuous  little  laugh,     "  I  did 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  351 

not  quarrel  with  him — if  you  mean  that,"  he  said,  "  but 
even  to  please  you,  Thorpe,  I  could  n't  bring  myself  to 
put  my  back  into  the  job  of  making  money  for  him.  He 
was  treated  fairly  —  even  generously,  d'  ye  mind.  I 
should  think,  all  told,  he  had  some  thirty  thousand  pounds 
for  his  shares,  and  that  's  a  hundred  times  as  much  as  I 
had  a  pleasure  in  seeing  him  get.  Each  man  can  wear 
his  own  parasites,  but  it 's  a  task  for  him  to  stand  another 
man's.  I  shook  your  Lord  Plowden  off,  when  the  chance 
came." 

"That's  all  right,"  Thorpe  assured  him,  easily.  "  I 
never  told  you  that  he  was  any  good.  I  merely  felt  like 
giving  him  a  leg  up — because  really  at  the  start  he  was 
of  use  to  me.  I  did  owe  him  something.  ...  It  was 
at  his  house  that  I  met  my  wife. ' ' 

"  Aye,"  said  Semple,  with  dispassionate  brevity. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHEN  he  had  parted  with  Semple,  at  a  corner  where 
the  busy  broker,  who  had  walked  out  with  him, 
obviously  fidgeted  to  get  away,  Thorpe  could  think  of 
no  one  else  in  the  City  whom  he  desired  to  see.  A  call 
upon  his  bankers  would,  he  knew,  be  made  an  occasion 
of  extremely  pleasant  courtesy  by  those  affable  people, 
but  upon  reflection  it  seemed  scarcely  worth  the  trouble. 

He  was  in  a  mood  for  indolent  sauntering,  and  he  made 
the  long  stretch  of  the  Holborn  thoroughfare  in  a  leisurely 
fashion,  turning  off  when  the  whim  seized  him  into  odd 
courts  and  alley-ways  to  see  what  they  were  like.  After 
luncheon,  he  continued  his  ramble,  passing  at  last  from 
St.  Giles,  through  avenues  which  had  not  existed  in  the 
London  of  his  boyhood,  to  the  neighbourhood  ot  the  Dials. 
Here  also  the  landmarks  seemed  all  changed,  but  there 
was  still  enough  ostentatious  squalor  and  disorder  to 
identify  the  district.  He  observed  it  and  its  inhabitants 
with  a  certain  new  curiosity.  A  notable  alteration  for 
the  better  had  come  over  his  spirits.  It  might  be  the 
champagne  at  luncheon,  or  it  might  be  the  mere  operation 
of  a  frank  talk  with  Semple,  that  had  dissipated  his  gloom. 
At  all  events  it  was  gone — and  he  strolled  along  in  quite 
placid  contentment,  taking  in  the  panorama  of  London's 
more  intimate  life  with  the  interest  of  a  Londoner  who  has 
obtained  a  fresh  country  eye. 

He  who  had  seen  most  of  the  world,  and  not  cared 
much  about  the  spectacle,  found  himself  now  consciously 

352 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  353 

enjoying  observation  as  he  had  not  supposed  it  possible  to 
do.  He  surrendered  himself  to  the  experience  with  a 
novel  sense  of  having  found  something  worth  while — and 
found  it,  moreover,  under  his  very  nose.  In  some  dull, 
meaningless  fashion  he  had  always  known  this  part  of 
London,  and  been  familiar  writh  its  external  aspects.  Now 
suddenly  he  perceived  that  the  power  had  come  to  him  of 
seeing  it  all  in  a  different  way.  The  objects  he  beheld, 
inanimate  and  otherwise,  had  specific  new  meanings  for 
him.  His  mind  was  stirred  pleasurably  by  the  things 
they  said  to  him. 

He  looked  at  all  the  contents  of  the  windows  as  he 
passed  ;  at  the  barrows  of  the  costers  and  hawkers  crowd 
ing  up  the  side-streets  ;  at  the  coarse-haired,  bare-headed 
girls  and  women  standing  about  in  their  shawls  and  big 
white  aprons  ;  at  the  weakling  babies  in  their  arms  or 
about  the  thick,  clumsy  folds  of  their  stained  skirts  ;  at 
the  grimy,  shuffling  figures  of  their  men-folk,  against  the 
accustomed  background  of  the  public-house  corner,  with 
its  half-open  door,  and  its  fly-blown  theatre-bills  in  the 
windows  ;  at  the  drivers  of  the  vans  and  carts,  sleepily 
overlooking  the  huge  horses,  gigantic  to  the  near  view  as 
some  survival  from  the  age  of  mammoths,  which  pushed 
gingerly,  ploddingly,  their  tufted  feet  over  the  greasy 
stones  ;  at  foul  interiors  where  through  the  blackness  one 
discerned  bent  old  hags  picking  over  refuse  ;  at  the  faces 
which,  as  he  passed,  made  some  special  human  appeal  to 
him — faces  blurred  with  drink,  faces  pallid  with  under 
feeding,  faces  worn  into  masks  by  the  tension  of  trouble, 
faces  sweetened  by  resignation,  faces  aglow  with  devil- 
may-care  glee  ...  he  looked,  as  it  were,  into  the 
pulsing  heart  of  something  which  had  scarcely  seemed 
alive  to  him  before. 

Eventually,  he  found  himself  halting  at  the  door  of  his 
23 


354  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

sister's  book-shop.  A  new  boy  stood  guard  over  the 
stock  exposed  on  the  shelf  and  stands  outside,  and  he 
looked  stonily  at  the  great  man  ;  it  was  evident  that  he 
was  as  far  from  suspecting  his  greatness  as  his  relation 
ship.  It  pleased  Thorpe  for  a  little  to  take  up  one  book 
after  another,  and  pretend  to  read  from  it,  and  force  the 
boy  to  watch  him  hard.  He  had  almost  the  temptation 
to  covertly  slip  a  volume  into  his  pocket,  and  see  what 
the  lad  would  do.  It  was  remarkable,  he  reflected  with 
satisfaction — this  new  capacity  within  him  to  find  drama 
in  trifles. 

There  floated  into  his  mind  the  recollection  of  some  ab 
surd  squabble  he  had  had  with  his  sister  about  the  sign 
overhead.  He  stepped  back  a  few  paces  and  looked  up  at 
it.  There  were  the  old  words — l<  Thorpe,  Bookseller  " — 
right  enough,  but  they  seemed  to  stand  forth  with  a  novel 
prominence.  Upon  a  second  glance,  he  saw  that  the 
board  had  been  repainted.  At  this  he  laughed  aloud. 
The  details  of  the  episode  came  back  to  him  now.  For 
some  reason,  or  no  reason  at  all — he  could  not  now 
imagine  what  on  earth  could  have  prompted  him — he  had 
last  spring  caused  his  sister  to  be  informed  of  his  wish 
that  her  own  name,  Dabney,  should  be  substituted  for 
that  of  Thorpe  on  her  sign.  It  was  to  Julia  that  he  had 
confided  this  mission,  and  it  was  Julia  who,  in  a  round 
about  way,  had  disclosed  to  him  presently  her  mother's 
deep  resolution  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  He  laughed 
again  at  the  added  defiance  that  this  refurbishing  of  the 
old  sign  expressed,  and  still  was  grinning  broadly  as  he 
entered  the  shop  and  pushed  his  way  along  to  the  rear. 

She  stood  beside  her  desk  as  she  seemed  to  have  stood 
ever  since  he  could  remember  her — tall,  placid,  dull-eyed, 
self-sufficient,  exhaling  as  it  were  a  kind  of  stubborn  yet 
competent  listlessness.  Her  long,  mannish  countenance 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  355 

expressed  an  undoubted  interest  in  his  presence,  when 
she  recognized  him,  but  he  had  no  clear  perception 
whether  it  was  pleased  or  otherwise.  In  their  infrequent 
latter-day  encounters  he  had  dropped  the  habit  of  kissing 
her,  and  there  was  certainly  no  hint  in  her  manner  of  ex 
pecting,  much  less  inviting,  its  renewal  now — but  upon  a 
sudden  impulse  he  drew  her  to  him  with  an  arm  flung 
round  her  gaunt  waist,  smacked  his  lips  with  effusion  upon 
her  cheek. 

Her  surprise,  as  she  withdrew  herself  somewhat  force 
fully  from  his  embrace,  was  plain  enough.  "  Well  !  "  she 
exclaimed  vaguely,  and  then  looked  at  him.  "  You  're 
getting  fatter/' 

"  No  I  'm  not,"  he  rejoined,  with  the  earnestness  be 
longing  to  an  important  topic.  ' '  People  think  I  am — but 
it 's  merely  the  looseness  of  these  clothes.  There  's  really 
no  difference  since  I  was  here  last." 

The  glance  they  exchanged  was  so  full  of  the  tacit  com 
ment  that  this  last  visit  was  a  long  time  ago,  that  Thorpe 
put  it  into  words.  "  Let  's  see — that  was  just  before 
Christmas,  was  n't  it  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Something  like  that,"  she  responded.  "  You  were 
going  to  get  married  in  a  week  or  two,  I  remember,  and 
that  was  in  January,  was  n't  it  ?  I  was  taking  stock,  I 
know." 

He  nodded  in  turn.  The  thought  that  his  only 
sister  recalled  his  marriage  merely  as  a  date,  like  a  royal 
anniversary  or  a  bank-holiday,  and  held  herself  implac 
ably  aloof  from  all  contact  with  his  domestic  life,  an 
noyed  him  afresh.  "  You  're  an  awful  goat,  not  to  come 
near  us, ' '  he  felt  impelled,  in  brotherly  frankness,  to  tell 
her. 

She  put  out  her  lips,  and  wagged  her  head  a  little,  in  a 
gesture  which  it  flashed  across  him  his  own  mirror  might 


356  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

often  have  recorded.  ' '  I  thought  that  was  all  settled  and 
done  with  long  ago,"  she  said,  moodily. 

"  Oh,  I  won't  worry  you  with  it,  Lou,"  he  observed, 
with  reassuring  kindness  of  tone.  "  I  never  felt  so  much 
like  being  nice  to  you  in  my  life. ' ' 

She  seemed  surprised  at  this,  too,  and  regarded  him 
with  a  heavy  new  fixity  of  gaze.  No  verbal  comment, 
apparently,  occurred  to  her. 

"  Julia  and  Alfred  all  right  ?  "  he  queried,  cheerfully. 

"  I  daresay,"  she  made  brief  answer. 

"  But  they  write  to  you,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  She  does — sometimes.  They  seem  to  be  doing  them 
selves  very  well,  from  what  she  says." 

"  She  'd  write  oftener,  if  you  'd  answer  her  letters,"  he 
told  her,  in  tones  of  confidential  reproach. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  write  letters  unless  I  've  got  something  to 
say, ' '  she  answered,  as  if  the  explanation  were  ample. 

The  young  people  were  domiciled  for  the  time  being  at 
Dusseldorf,  where  Alfred  had  thought  he  would  most  like 
to  begin  his  Continental  student-career,  and  where  Julia, 
upon  the  more  or  less  colourable  pretext  of  learning  the 
language,  might  enjoy  the  mingled  freedom  and  occupa 
tion  of  a  home  of  her  own.  They  had  taken  a  house  for 
the  summer  and  autumn,  and  would  do  the  same  in  Dres 
den  or  Munich,  later  on,  for  the  winter. 

"  What  I  would  really  have  liked,"  Thorpe  confided  to 
his  sister  now,  "  was  to  have  had  them  both  live  with  me. 
They  would  have  been  as  welcome  as  the  day  is  long.  I 
could  see,  of  course,  in  Alfred's  case,  that  if  he  's  set  on 
being  an  artist,  he  ought  to  study  abroad.  Kven  the  best 
English  artists,  he  says,  do  that  at  the  beginning.  So  it 
was  all  right  for  him  to  go.  But  Julia — it  was  different 
with  her — I  was  rather  keen  about  her  staying.  My  wite 
was  just  as  keen  as  I  was.  She  took  the  greatest  fancy  to 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  357 

Julia  from  the  very  start — and  so  far  as  I  could  see,  Julia 
liked  her  all  right.  In  fact,  I  thought  Julia  would  want 
to  stay — but  somehow  she  did  n't." 

"  She  always  spoke  very  highly  of  your  wife,"  Mrs. 
Dabney  affirmed  with  judicial  fairness.  "  I  think  she 
does  like  her  very  much. ' ' 

'  *  Well  then  what  did  she  want  to  hyke  off  to  live  among 
those  Dutchmen  for,  when  one  of  the  best  houses  in  Eng 
land  was  open  to  her  ?  ' '  Thorpe  demanded. 

'  You  must  n't  ask  me"  her  mother  responded.  Her 
tone  seemed  to  carry  the  suggestion  that  by  silence  she 
could  best  protect  her  daughter's  interests. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  know  any  more  about  it  than  I 
do,"  was  his  impulsive  comment. 

"  I  daresay  not,"  she  replied,  with  indifference. 
"  Probably  she  did  n't  fancy  living  in  so  big  a  house — 
although  heaven  knows  her  ideas  are  big  enough  about 
most  things." 

"  Did  she  say  so  ?  "  Thorpe  asked  abruptly. 

The  widow  shook  her  head  with  dispassionate  candour. 
"  She  did  n't  say  anything  to  me  about  it,  one  way  or  the 
other.  I  formed  my  own  impressions — that  's  all.  It  's 
a  free  country.  Everybody  can  form  their  impressions." 
•'  "  I  wish  you  'd  tell  me  what  you  really  think,"  Thorpe 
urged  her,  mildly  persuasive.  '  You  know  how  fond  I 
am  of  Julia,  and  how  little  I  want  to  do  her  an  injustice." 

"  Oh,  she  would  n't  feel  that  way,"  Louisa  observed, 
vaguely.  "  If  you  ask  me  plain,  I  think  it  was  dull  for 
her." 

""""Well,"  said  Thorpe,  upon  reflection,  "I  shouldn't 
be  surprised  if  it  was.  I  had  n't  thought  of  that.  But 
still — why  she  and  my  wife  could  be  company  for  each 
other." 

"  You  talk  as  if  life  was  merely  a  long  railway  journey," 


358  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

she  told  him,  in  an  unexpected  flight  of  metaphor.  ; '  Two 
women  cooped  up  in  a  lonesome  country  house  may  be  a 
little  less  lonely  than  one  of  them  by  herself  would  be — 
but  not  much.  It  's  none  of  my  business — but  how  your 
wife  must  hate  it  !  " 

He  laughed  easily.  ' '  Ah,  that '  s  where  you '  re  wrong, ' ' 
he  said.  "  She  does  n't  care  about  anything  but  garden 
ing.  That  's  her  hobby.  She  's  crazy  about  it.  We  've 
laid  out  more  in  new  greenhouses  alone,  not  counting  the 
plants,  than  would  rebuild  this  building.  I  'm  not  sure 
the  heating  apparatus  would  n't  come  to  that,  alone.  And 
then  the  plants  !  What  do  you  think  of  six  and  eight 
guineas  for  a  single  root  ?  Those  are  the  amaryllises — 
and  if  you  come  to  orchids,  you  can  pay  hundreds  if  you 
like.  Well,  that  's  her  passion.  That 's  what  she  really 
loves. ' ' 

"  That  's  what  she  seizes  upon  to  keep  her  from  just 
dying  of  loneliness,"  L,ouisa  retorted,  obstinately,  and  at 
a  sign  of  dissent  from  her  brother  she  went  on.  "  Oh,  I 
know  what  I  'm  talking  about.  I  have  three  or  four 
customers — ladies  in  the  country,  and  one  of  them  is  a 
lady  of  title,  too — and  they  order  gardening  books  and 
other  books  through  me,  and  when  they  get  up  to  town, 
once  a  year  or  so,  they  come  here  and  they  talk  to  me 
about  it.  And  there  is  n't  one  of  them  that  at  the  bot 
tom  of  her  heart  does  n't  hate  it.  They  'd  rather  dodge 
busses  at  Charing  Cross  corner  all  day  long,  than  raise 
flowers  as  big  as  cheeses,  if  they  had  their  own  way.  But 
they  don't  have  their  own  way,  and  they  must  have 
something  to  occupy  themselves  with — and  they  take  to 
gardening.  I  daresay  I  'd  even  do  it  myself  if  I  had  to 
live  in  the  country,  which  thank  God  I  don't  !  " 

"  That  's  because  you  don't  know  anything  about  the 
country,"  he  told  her,  but  the  retort,  even  while  it  justi- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  359 

fied  itself,  had  a  hollow  sound  in  his  own  ears.     ' '  All  you 
know  outside  of  London  is  Margate. ' ' 

"  I  went  to  Yarmouth  and  Lowestoft  this  summer,"  she 
informed  him,  crushingly. 

Somehow  he  lacked  the  heart  to  laugh.  ' '  I  know  what 
you  mean,  Lou,"  he  said,  with  an  affectionate  attempt  at 
placation.  "  I  suppose  there  's  a  good  deal  in  what  you 
say.  It  is  dull,  out  there  at  my  place,  if  you  have  too 
much  of  it.  Perhaps  that  's  a  good  hint  about  my  wife. 
It  never  occurred  to  me,  but  it  may  be  so.  But  the  deuce 
of  it  is,  what  else  is  there  to  do  ?  We  tried  a  house  in 
London,  during  the  Season •' ' 

"  Yes,  I  saw  in  the  papers  you  were  here,"  she  said  im 
passively,  in  comment  upon  his  embarrassed  pause. 

"  I  did  n't  look  you  up,  because  I  did  n't  think  you 
wanted  much  to  see  me" — he  explained  with  a  certain 
awkwardness — ' '  but  bye-gones  are  all  bye-gones.  We  took 
a  town  house,  but  we  did  n't  like  it.     It  was  one  endless 
procession  of  stupid  and  tiresome  calls  and  dinners  and 
parties  ;  we  got  awfully  sick  of  it,  and  swore  we  would  n't 
try  it  again.     Well  there  you  are,  don't  you  see?     It's 
stupid    in    Hertfordshire,    and   it  's    stupid    here.      Of 
course  one  can  travel  abroad,  but  that 's  no  good  for  more 
than  a  few  months.     Of  course  it  would  be  different  if  I 
had  something  to  do.     I  tell  you  God's  truth,  Lou — some-  , 
times  I  feel  as  if  I  was  really  happier  when  I  was  a  poor  I 
man.     I  know  it  's  all  rot — I  really  was  n't — but  some-  | 
times  it  seems  as  if  I  was." 

She  contemplated  him  with  a  leaden  kind  of  gaze. 
"  Did  n't  it  ever  occur  to  you  to  do  some  good  with  your 
money?"  she  said,  with  slow  bluntness.  Then,  as  if 
fearing  a  possible  misconception,  she  added  more  rapidly: 
"  I  don't  mean  among  your  own  family.  We  're  a  clan 
nish  people,  we  Thorpes  ;  we  'd  always  help  our  own  flesh 


360  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

and  blood,  even  if  we  kicked  them  while  we  were  doing  it 
— but  I  mean  outside,  in  the  world  at  large." 

"  What  have  I  got  to  do  with  the  world  at  large  ?  I 
did  n't  make  it ;  I'm  not  responsible  for  it."  He  muttered 
the  phrases  lightly  enough,  but  a  certain  fatuity  in  them 
seemed  to  attract  his  attention  when  he  heard  their  sound. 
"  I  've  given  between  five  and  six  thousand  pounds  to 
London  hospitals  within  the  present  year,"  he  added, 
straightening  himself.  ' '  I  wonder  you  did  n'  t  see  it.  It 
was  in  all  the  papers. ' ' 

"  Hospitals  !  " 

It  was  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  scorn  which  her 
voice  imported  into  the  word.  He  looked  at  her  with  un 
feigned  surprise,  and  then  took  in  the  impression  that  she 
was  upon  a  subject  which  exceptionally  interested  her. 
Certainly  the  display  of  something  approaching  animation 
in  her  glance  and  manner  was  abnormal. 

"  I  said  *  do  some  good  with  your  money,'  "  she  re 
minded  him,  still  with  a  vibration  of  feeling  in  her  tone. 
' '  You  must  live  in  the  country,  if  you  think  London  hos 
pitals  are  deserving  objects.  They  could  n't  fool  Lon 
doners  on  that  point,  not  if  they  had  got  the  Prince  to  go 
on  his  hands  and  knees.  And  you  give  a  few  big  cheques 
to  them,"  she  went  on,  meditatively,  "  and  you  never  ask 
how  they  're  managed,  or  what  rings  are  running  them  for 
their  own  benefit,  or  how  your  money  is  spent — and  you 
think  you  've  done  a  noble,  philanthropic  thing  !  Oh  no 
— I  was  n't  talking  about  humbug  charity.  I  was  talking 
about  doing  some  genuine  good  in  the  world." 

He  put  his  leg  over  the  high  stool,  and  pushed  his  hat 
back  with  a  smile.  "  All  right,"  he  said,  genially. 
"  What  do  you  propose  ?  " 

"  I  don't  propose  anything,"  she  told  him,  after  a  mo 
ment  's  hesitation,  "  You  must  work  that  out  for  your- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  361 

self.  What  might  seem  important  to  me  might  not 
interest  you  at  all — and  if  you  were  n't  interested  you 
would  n't  do  anything.  But  this  I  do  say  to  you,  Joel — 
and  I  've  said  it  to  myself  every  day  for  this  last  year  or 
more,  and  had  you  in  mind  all  the  time,  too — if  I  had 
made  a  great  fortune,  and  I  sat  about  in  purple  and  fine 
linen  doing  nothing  but  amuse  myself  in  idleness  and 
selfishness,  letting  my  riches  accumulate  and  multiply 
themselves  without  being  of  use  to  anybody,  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  look  my  fellow-creatures  in  the  face  !  You 
were  born  here.  You  know  what  London  slums  are  like. 
You  know  what  Clare  Market  was  like — it  's  bad  enough 
still — and  what  the  Seven  Dials  and  Drury  L,ane  and  a 
dozen  other  places  round  here  are  like  to  this  day.  That 's 
only  within  a  stone's  throw.  Have  you  seen  Charles 
Booth's  figures  about  the  London  poor  ?  Of  course  you 
have  n't — and  it  does  n't  matter.  You  know  what  they 
are  like.  But  you  don't  care.  The  misery  and  ignorance 
and  filth  and  hopelessness  of  two  or  three  hundred  thou 
sand  people  does  n't  interest  you.  You  sit  upon  your 
money-bags  and  smile.  If  you  want  the  truth,  I  'm 
ashamed  to  have  you  for  a  brother  !  " 

"  Well,  I  'm  damned  !  "  was  Thorpe's  delayed  and 
puzzled  comment  upon  this  outburst.  He  looked  long  at 
his  sister,  in  blank  astonishment.  "  Since  when  have  you 
been  taker,  this  way  ?  "  he  asked  at  last,  mechanically 
jocular. 

'  That  's  all  right,"  she  declared  with  defensive  incon 
sequence.  "  It 's  the  way  I  feel.  It  's  the  way  I  Ve  felt 
from  the  beginning." 

He  was  plainly  surprised  out  of  his  equanimity  by  this 
unlooked-for  demonstration  on  his  sister's  part.  He  got 
off  the  stool  and  walked  about  in  the  little  cleared  space 
round  the  desk.  WThen  he  spoke,  it  was  to  utter  some- 


362  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

thing  which  he  could  trace  to  no  mental  process  of  which 
he  had  been  conscious. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  that  is  n't  what  I  've  felt  too 
— from  the  beginning  ?  "  he  demanded  of  her,  almost  with 
truculence.  '  You  say  I  sit  on  my  money-bags  and  smile 
— you  abuse  me  with  doing  no  good  with  my  money — how 
do  you  know  I  have  n't  been  studying  the  subject  all  this 
while,  and  making  my  plans,  and  getting  ready  to  act  ? 
You  never  did  believe  in  me  ! ' ' 

She  sniffed  at  him.  "  I  don't  believe  in  you  now,  at  all 
events,"  she  said,  bluntly. 

He  assumed  the  expression  of  a  misunderstood  man. 
"  Why,  this  very  day  " — he  began,  and  again  was  aware 
that  thoughts  were  coming  up,  ready-shaped  to  his  tongue, 
which  were  quite  strangers  to  his  brain — "  this  whole  day 
I  've  been  going  inch  by  inch  over  the  very  ground  you 
mention  ;  I  've  been  on  foot  since  morning,  seeing  all  the 
corners  and  alleys  of  that  whole  district  for  myself,  watch 
ing  the  people  and  the  things  they  buy  and  the  way  they 
live — and  thinking  out  my  plans  for  doing  something.  I 
don't  claim  any  credit  for  it.  It  seems  to  me  no  more 
than  what  a  man  in  my  position  ought  to  do.  But  I  own 
that  to  come  in,  actually  tired  out  from  a  tramp  like  that, 
and  get  blown-up  by  one's  own  sister  for  selfishness  and 
heartlessness  and  miserliness  and  all  the  rest  of  it — I  must 
say,  that  's  a  bit  rum." 

Louisa  did  not  wince  under  this  reproach  as  she  might 
have  been  expected  to  do,  nor  was  there  any  perceptible 
amelioration  in  the  heavy  frown  with  which  she  continued 
to  regard  him.  But  her  words,  uttered  after  some  con 
sideration,  came  in  a  tone  of  voice  which  revealed  a  desire 
to  avoid  offense.  "  It  won't  matter  to  you,  your  getting 
blown-up  by  me,  if  you  're  really  occupying  your  mind 
with  that  sort  of  thing.  You  're  too  used  to  it  for  that." 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  363 

He  would  have  liked  a  less  cautious  acceptance  of  his 
assurances  than  this — but  after  all,  one  did  not  look  to 
IvOuisa  for  enthusiasms.  The  depth  of  feeling  she  had 
disclosed  on  this  subject  of  London's  poor  still  astonished 
him,  but  principally  now  because  of  its  unlikely  source. 
If  she  had  been  notoriously  of  an  altruistic  and  free-handed 
disposition,  he  could  have  understood  it.  But  she  had 
been  always  the  hard,  dry,  unemotional  one  ;  by  compari 
son  with  her,  he  felt  himself  to  be  a  volatile  and  even 
sentimental  person.  If  she  had  such  views  as  these,  it 
became  clear  to  him  that  his  own  views  were  even  much 
advanced. 

"  It 's  a  tremendous  subject,"  he  said,  with  loose  large 
ness  of  manner.  "  Only  a  man  who  works  hard  at  it  can 
realize  how  complicated  it  is.  The  only  way  is  to  start 
with  the  understanding  that  something  is  going  to  be 
done.  No  matter  how  many  difficulties  there  are  in  the 
way,  something  's  going  to  be  done !  If  a  strong  man 
starts  out  with  that,  why  then  he  can  fight  his  way 
through,  and  push  the  difficulties  aside  or  bend  them  to 
suit  his  purpose,  and  accomplish  something." 

Mrs.  Dabney,  listening  to  this,  found  nothing  in  it  to 
quarrel  with — yet  somehow  remained,  if  not  skeptical, 
then  passively  unconvinced.  "  What  are  your  plans  ?  " 
she  asked  him. 

"  Oh,  it  's  too  soon  to  formulate  anything,"  he  told 
her,  with  prepared  readiness.  "  It  is  n't  a  thing  to  rush 
into  in  a  hurry,  with  half  baked  theories  and  limited  in 
formation.  Great  results,  permanent  results,  are  never 
obtained  that  way." 

"  I  hope  it  is  n't  any  Peabody  model-dwelling  thing." 

"  Oh,  nothing  like  it  in  the  least,"  he  assured  her,  and 
made  a  mental  note  to  find  out  what  it  was  she  had 
referred  to. 


364  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  The  Lord-Rowton  houses  are  better,  they  say,"  she 
went  on,  "  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  real  thing  is  that 
there  should  n't  be  all  this  immense  number  of  people 
with  only  fourpence  or  fivepence  in  their  pocket.  That 's 
where  the  real  mischief  lies." 

He  nodded  comprehendingly,  but  hesitated  over  further 
words.  Then  something  occurred  to  him.  '  *  Look  here  ! ' ' 
he  said.  "  If  you  're  as  keen  about  all  this,  are  you  game 
to  give  up  this  footling  old  shop,  and  devote  your  time  to 
carrying  out  my  plans,  when  I '  ve  licked  'em  into  shape  ?  ' ' 

She  began  shaking  her  head,  but  then  something  seemed 
also  to  occur  to  her.  "  It  '11  be  time  enough  to  settle  that 
when  we  get  to  it,  won't  it  ?  "  she  observed. 

"  No — you  've  got  to  promise  me  now,"  he  told  her. 

"  Well  that  I  won't  !  "  she  answered,  roundly. 

"  You  'd  see  the  whole — the  whole  scheme  come  to  no 
thing,  would  you?" — he  scolded  at  her — "  rather  than 
abate  a  jot  of  your  confounded  mulishness." 

11  Aha  !  "  she  commented,  with  a  certain  alertness  of 
perception  shining  through  the  stolidity  of  her  mien. 
"  I  knew  you  were  humbugging  !  If  you  'd  meant  what 
you  said,  you  would  n't  talk  about  its  coming  to  nothing 
because  I  won't  do  this  or  that.  I  ought  to  have  known 
better.  I  'm  always  a  goose  when  I  believe  what  you 
tell  me." 

A  certain  abstract  justice  in  her  reproach  impressed  him. 
"  No  you  're  not,  Lou,"  he  replied,  coaxingly.  "  I  really 
mean  it  all — every  word  of  it — and  more.  It  only  occurred 
to  me  that  it  would  all  go  better,  if  you  helped.  Can't 
you  understand  how  I  should  feel  that  ?  " 

She  seemed  in  a  grudging  way  to  accept  anew  his  pro 
fessions  of  sincerity,  but  she  resisted  all  attempts  to  ex 
tract  any  promise.  "  I  don't  believe  in  crossing  a  bridge 
till  I  get  to  it, ' '  she  declared,  when,  on  the  point  of  his 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  365 

departure,  he  last  raised  the  question,  and  it  had  to  be 
left  at  that. 

He  took  with  him  some  small  books  she  had  tied  in  a 
parcel,  and  told  him  to  read.  She  had  spoken  so  confi 
dently  of  their  illuminating  value,  that  he  found  himself 
quite  committed  to  their  perusal — and  almost  to  their 
endorsement.  He  had  thought  during  the  day  of  running 
down  to  Newmarket,  for  the  Cesarewitch  was  to  be  run 
on  the  morrow,  and  someone  had  told  him  that  that  was 
worth  seeing.  By  the  time  he  reached  his  hotel,  how 
ever,  an  entirely  new  project  had  possessed  his  mind. 
He  packed  his  bag,  and  took  the  next  train  for  home. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

'  T  DID  n't  ask  your  father,  after  all,"  was  one  of  the 

1  things  that  Thorpe  said  to  his  wife  next  day.  He 
had  the  manner  of  one  announcing  a  concession,  albeit  in 
an  affable  spirit,  and  she  received  the  remark  with  a  scant, 
silent  nod. 

Two  days  later  he  recurred  to  the  subject.  They  were 
again  upon  the  terrace,  where  he  had  been  lounging  in  an 
easy-chair  most  of  the  day,  with  the  books  his  sister  had 
bid  him  read  on  a  table  beside  him.  He  had  glanced 
through  some  of  them  in  a  desultory  fashion,  cutting  pages 
at  random  here  and  there,  but  for  the  most  part  he  had 
looked  straight  before  him  at  the  broad  landscape,  mel 
lowing  now  into  soft  browns  and  yellows  under  the  mild, 
vague  October  sun.  He  had  not  thought  much  of  the 
books,  but  he  had  a  certain  new  sense  of  enjoyment  in 
the  fruits  of  this  placid,  abstracted  rumination  which  per 
haps  they  had  helped  to  induce. 

"  About  your  father,"  he  said  now,  as  his  wife,  who 
had  come  out  to  speak  with  him  on  some  other  matter, 
was  turning  to  go  away  again  :  "  I  'm  afraid  I  annoyed 
you  the  other  day  by  what  I  said." 

"  I  have  no  recollection  of  it,"  she  told  him,  with  tran 
quil  politeness,  over  her  shoulder. 

He  found  himself  all  at  once  keenly  desirous  of  a  con 
versation  on  this  topic.  "  But  I  want  you  to  recollect," 
he  said,  as  he  rose  to  his  feet.  There  was  a  suggestion 
of  urgency  in  his  tone  which  arrested  her  attention.  She 

366 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  367 

moved  slowly  toward  the  chair,  and  after  a  little  perched 
herself  upon  one  of  its  big  arms,  and  looked  up  at  him 
where  he  leant  against  the  parapet. 

"  I  've  thought  of  it  a  good  deal,"  he  went  on,  in  halt 
ing  explanation.  His  purpose  seemed  clearer  to  him  than 
were  the  right  phrases  in  which  to  define  it.  ;<  I  per 
sisted  in  saying  that  I  'd  do  something  you  did  n't 
want  me  to  do — something  that  was  a  good  deal  more 
your  affair  than  mine— and  I  've  blamed  myself  for  it. 
That  is  n't  at  all  what  I  want  to  do." 

Her  face  as  well  as  her  silence  showed  her  to  be  at  a  los& 
for  an  appropriate  comment.  She  was  plainly  surprised, 
and  seemingly  embarrassed  as  well. 

"  I  'm  sure  you  always  wish  to  be  nice,"  she  said  at 
last.  The  words  and  tone  were  alike  gracious,  but  he 
detected  in  them  somewhere  a  perfunctory  note. 

"Oh — nice!"  he  echoed,  in  a  sudden  stress  of  im 
patience  with  the  word.  ' '  Damn  being  *  nice '  !  Any 
body  can  be  '  nice.'  I  'm  thinking  of  something  ten 
thousand  times  bigger  than  being  *  nice.'  ' 

11  I  withdraw  the  word  immediately — unreservedly," 
she  put  in,  with  a  smile  in  which  he  read  that  genial 
mockery  he  knew  so  well. 

' '  You  laugh  at  me — whenever  I  try  to  talk  seriously, ' ' 
he  objected. 

"  I  laugh  ?  "  she  queried,  with  an  upward  glance  of  de 
murely  simulated  amazement.  "  Impossible  !  I  assure 
you  I  've  forgotten  how." 

"  Ah,  now  we  get  to  it  !  "  he  broke  out,  with  energy. 
"  You  're  really  feeling  about  it  just  as  I  am.  You  're  not 
satisfied  with  what  we  're  doing — with  the  life  we  're  lead 
ing — any  more  than  I  am.  I  see  that,  plain  enough,  now. 
I  did  n't  dream  of  it  before.  Somehow  I  got  the  idea  that 
you  were  enjoying  it  immensely — the  greenhouses  and 


368  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

gardens  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  And  do  you  know 
who  it  wa*  that  put  me  right — that  told  me  you  hated 
it?'' 

"  Oh,  don't  let  us  talk  of  him!"  Edith  exclaimed, 
swiftly. 

Thorpe  laughed.  "You  're  wrong.  It  wasn't  your 
father.  I  did  n't  see  him.  No — it  was  my  sister.  She  's 
never  seen  you,  but  all  the  same  she  knew  enough  to  give 
me  points.  She  told  me  I  was  a  fool  to  suppose  you  were 
happy  here. ' ' 

"  How  clever  of  her  !  "  A  certain  bantering  smile  ac 
companied  the  words,  but  on  the  instant  it  faded  away. 
She  went  on  with  a  musing  gravity.  "  I  'm  sorry  I  don't 
get  to  know  your  sister.  She  seems  an  extremely  real 
sort  of  person.  I  can  understand  that  she  might  be  diffi 
cult  to  live  with — I  daresay  all  genuine  characters  are — 
but  she  's  very  real.  Although,  apparently,  conversation 
is  n't  her  strong  point,  still  I  enjoy  talking  with  her." 

' '  How  do  you  mean  ?  ' '  Thorpe  asked,  knitting  his 
brows  in  puzzlement. 

"  Oh,  I  often  go  to  her  shop — or  did  when  I  was  in 
town.  I  went  almost  immediately  after  our — our  return 
to  England.  I  was  half  afraid  she  would  recognize  me — 
the  portraits  in  the  papers,  you  know — but  apparently  she 
did  n't.  And  it  's  splendid — the  way  she  says  absolutely 
nothing  more  than  it  's  necessary  to  say.  And  her  can 
dour  !  If  she  thinks  books  are  bad  she  says  so.  Fancy 
that  !  " 

He  still  frowned  uneasily  as  he  looked  down  at  her. 
' '  You  never  mentioned  to  me  that  you  had  gone  there, ' ' 
he  told  her,  as  if  in  reproach. 

"  Ah,  it  was  complicated,"  Edith  explained.  "She 
objects  to  knowing  me — I  think  secretly  I  respect  her  a 
great  deal  for  that — and  therefore  there  is  something 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  369 

clandestine  about  my  getting  to  know  her — and  I  could 
not  be  sure  how  it  would  impress  you,  and  really  it 
seemed  simplest  not  to  mention  it." 

"  It  isn't  that  alone,"  he  declared,  grave-faced  still, 
but  with  a  softer  voice.  ' '  Do  you  remember  what  I  said 
the  other  day  ?  It  would  make  all  the  difference  in  the 
world  to  me,  if— if  you  were  really — actually  my  other 
half!" 

The  phrase  which  he  had  caught  at  seemed,  as  it  fell 
upon  the  air,  to  impregnate  it  with  some  benumbing 
quality.  The  husband  and  wife  looked  dumbly,  almost 
vacantly  at  one  another,  for  what  appeared  a  long  time. 

"  I  mean  " — all  at  once  Thorpe  found  tongue,  and  even 
a  sort  of  fluency  as  he  progressed — "  I  mean,  if  you  shared 
things  really  with  me  !  Oh,  I  'm  not  complaining  ;  you 
must  n't  think  that.  The  agreement  we  made  at  the 
start— you  've  kept  your  part  of  it  perfectly.  You  've 
done  better  than  that :  you  've  kept  still  about  the  fact 
that  it  made  you  unhappy." 

"  Oh  no,"  she  interposed,  gently.  "  It  is  not  the  fact 
that  it  has  made  me  unhappy." 

"Well — discontented,  then,"  he  resumed,  without 
pause.  "  Here  we  are.  We  do  the  thing  we  want  to  do 
— we  make  the  kind  of  home  for  ourselves  that  we  've 
agreed  we  would  like — and  then  it  turns  out  that  some 
how  it  does  n't  come  up  to  expectations.  You  get  tired 
of  it.  I  suppose,  if  the  truth  were  known,  I  'in  by  way 
of  being  tired  of  it  too.  Well,  if  you  look  at  it,  that 
fact  is  the  most  important  thing  in  the  world  for  both  of 
us.  It 's  the  one  thing  that  we  ought  to  be  most  anxious 
to  discuss,  and  examine  frankly  in  all  its  bearings — in 
order  to  see  if  we  can't  better  it — but  that  's  precisely  the 
thing  that  does  n't  get  talked  about  between  us.  You 
would  never  have  told  me  that  you  were  unhappy " 


370  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  You  use  the  word  again,"  she  reminded  him,  a  wan 
smile  softening  her  protest. 

Thorpe  stood  up,  and  took  a  slow  step  toward  the  chair. 
He  held  her  glance  with  his  own,  as  he  stood  then,  his 
head  bent,  gravely  regarding  her. 

' '  Do  you  tell  me  that  you  are  happy  ?  "  he  asked,  with 
sober  directness. 

She  fluttered  her  hands  in  a  little  restrained  gesture  of 
comment.  "  You  consider  only  the  extremes,"  she  told 
him.  "  Eetween_  black  and^white  there  are  so  many 
colours  and  shades  and  half-tones  !  The  whole  spectrum, 
in  fact.  Hardly  anybody,  I  should  think,  gets  over  the 
edge  into  the  true  black  or  the  true  white.  There  are 
always  tints,  modifications.  People  are  always  inside  the 
colour-scheme,  so  to  speak.  The  worst  that  can  be  said 
of  me  is  that  I  may  be  in  the  blues — in  the  light-blues — 
but  it  is  fair  to  remember  that  they  photograph  white." 

Though  there  was  an  impulse  within  him  to  resent  this 
as  trifling,  he  resisted  it,  and  judicially  considered  her 
allegory.  "  That  is  to  say  " — he  began  hesitatingly. 

' '  To  the  observer  I  am  happy.  To  myself  I  am  not 
unhappy. ' ' 

"  Why  won't  you  tell  me,  Edith,  just  where  you  are  ?  " 

The  sound  of  her  name  was  somewhat  unfamiliar  to 
their  discourse.  The  intonation  which  his  voice  gave  to 
it  now  caused  her  to  look  up  quickly. 

"  If  I  could  tell  myself,"  she  answered  him,  after  an 
instant's  thought,  "  pray  believe  that  I  would  tell  you." 

The  way  seemed  for  the  moment  blocked  before  him, 
and  he  sighed  heavily.  "  I  want  to  get  nearer  to  you," 
he  said,  with  gloom,  "  and  I  don't  !  " 

It  occurred  to  her  to  remark  :  "  You  take  exception  to 
my  phraseology  when  I  say  you  always  try  to  be  '  nice,' 
but  I  'm  sure  you  know  what  I  mean."  She  offered  him 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  3/1 

this  assurance  with  a  tentative  smile,  into  which  he  gazed 
moodily. 

"  You  did  n't  think  I  was  '  nice '  when  you  consented 
to  marry  me,"  he  was  suddenly  inspired  to  say.  "  I  can't 
imagine  your  applying  that  word  to  me  then  in  your  mind. 
God  knows  what  it  was  you  did  say  to  yourself  about  me, 
but  you  never  said  I  was  '  nice. '  That  was  the  last  word 
that  would  have  fitted  me  then — and  now  it  's  the  only 
one  you  can  think  of."  The  hint  that  somehow  he  had 
stumbled  upon  a  clue  to  the  mysteries  enveloping  him 
rose  to  prominence  in  his  mind  as  he  spoke.  The  year 
had  wrought  a  baffling  difference  in  him.  He  lacked 
something  now  that  then  he  had  possessed,  but  he  was 
powerless  to  define  it. 

He  seated  himself  again  in  the  chair,  and  put  his  hand 
through  her  arm  to  keep  her  where  she  lightly  rested  be 
side  him.  "  Will  you  tell  me,"  he  said,  with  a  kind  of 
sombre  gentleness,  "  what  the  word  is  that  you  would 
have  used  then  ?  I  know  you  would  n't — could  n't — 
have  called  me  'nice.'  What  would  you  have  called 
me?" 

She  paused  in  silence  for  a  little,  then  slipped  from  the 
chair  and  stood  erect,  still  leaving  her  wrist  within  the 
restraining  curve  of  his  fingers.  ' '  I  suppose, ' '  she  said, 
musingly — * '  I  suppose  jshould  have  said  '  powerful^  or 
1  strong. '  "  Then  she_xereasg~'Eer  arm,  amTltTturn 
moved  tcrthe^arapet. 

"  "And  I  am_jgeakjQow — I  am  *  nice,'  "  he  reflected, 
mechanically. 

In  the  profile  he  saw,  as  she  looked  away  at  the  vast 
distant  horizon,  there  was  something  pensive,  even  sad. 
She  did  not  speak  at  once,  and  as  he  gazed  at  her  more 
narrowly  it  seemed  as  if  her  lips  were  quivering.  A  new 
sense  of  her  great  beauty  came  to  him — and  with  it  a  hint 


3/2  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

that  for  the  instant  at  least  her  guard  was  down.     He 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  stood  beside  her. 

"  You  are  going  to  be  open  with  me — Edith  !  "  he 
pleaded,  softly. 

She  turned  from  him  a  little,  as  if  to  hide  the  signs  of 
her  agitation.  "  Oh,  what  is  there  to  say?"  she  de 
manded,  in  a  tone  which  was  almost  a  wail.  <c  It  is  not 
your  fault.  I  'm  not  blaming  you." 

'  What  is  not  my  fault  ?  "  he  persisted  with  patient 
gentleness. 

Suddenly  she  confronted  him.  There  were  the  traces 
of  tears  upon  her  lashes,  and  serenity  had  fled  from  her 
face.  "  It  is  a  mistake — a  blunder, ' '  she  began,  hurriedly. 
"  I  take  it  all  upon  my  own  shoulders.  I  was  the  one 
who  did  it.  I  should  have  had  more  judgment — more 
good  sense  !  " 

'  You  are  not  telling  me,  are  you, ' '  he  asked  with 
gravity,  "  that  you  are  sorry  you  married  me  ?  " 

"Is  either  of  us  glad?"  she  retorted,  breathlessly. 
"  What  is  there  to  be  glad  about  ?  You  are  bored  to 
death — you  confess  it.  And  I — well,  it  is  not  what  I 
thought  it  would  be.  I  deceived  myself.  I  do  not  re 
proach  you." 

' f  No,  you  keep  saying  that, ' '  he  observed,  with  gloomy 
slowness  of  utterance.  "  But  what  is  it  you  reproach 
yourself  with,  then  ?  We  might  as  well  have  it  out." 

"  Yes,"  she  assented,  with  a  swift  reversion  to  calm. 
Her  eyes  met  his  with  a  glance  which  had  in  it  an  im 
placable  frankness.  "  I  married  one  man  because  he 
would  be  able  to  make  me  a  Duchess.  I  married  another 
because  he  had  eighty  thousand  a  year.  That  is  the  kind 
of  beast  I  am.  There  is  bad  blood  in  me.  You  know  my 
father  ;  that  is  quite  enough.  I  am  his  daughter  ;  that 
explains  everything." 


THE    MARKET-PLACE  373 

The  exaggeration  of  her  tone  and  words  produced  a 
curious  effect  upon  him.  He  stared  at  her  for  a  little, 
perceiving  slowly  that  a  new  personage  was  being  re 
vealed  to  him.  The  mask  of  delicately-balanced  cynicism, 
of  amiably  polite  indifference,  had  been  lifted  ;  there  was 
a  woman  of  flesh  and  blood  beneath  it,  after  all — a  woman 
to  whom  he  could  talk  on  terms  of  intimacy. 

"  Rubbish  !  "  he  said,  and  his  big  face  lightened  into  a 
genial,  paternal  smile.  "  You  did  n't  marry  me  for  my 
money  at  all  !  What  nonsense  !  I  simply  came  along 
and  carried  you  off.  You  could  n't  help  yourself.  It 
would  have  been  the  same  if  I  had  n't  had  sixpence." 

To  his  sharp  scrutiny  there  seemed  to  flicker  in  her 
eyes  a  kind  of  answering  gleam.  Then  she  hastily 
averted  her  glance,  and  in  this  action  too  there  was  a 
warrant  for  his  mounting  confidence. 

"  The  trouble  has  been,"  he  declared,  "  that  I  've  been 
too  much  afraid  of  you.  I  've  thought  that  you  were 
made  of  so  much  finer  stuff  than  I  am,  that  you  must  n't 
be  touched.  That  was  all  a  mistake.  I  see  it  right 
enough  now.  You  are  finer  than  I  am — God  knows 
there  's  no  dispute  about  that — but  that  's  no  reason  why 
I  should  have  hung  up  signs  of  '  Hands  off !  '  all  around 
you,  and  been  frightened  by  them  myself.  I  had  the 
cheek  to  capture  you  and  carry  you  off — and  I  ought  to 
have  had  the  pluck  to  make  you  love  me  afterward,  and 
keep  it  up.  And  that  's  what  I  'm  going  to  do  !  " 

To  this  declaration  she  offered  no  immediate  reply,  but 
continued  to  gaze  with  a  vaguely  meditative  air  upon  the 
expanse  of  landscape  spread  below  them.  He  threw  a 
hasty  glance  over  the  windows  behind  him,  and  then  with 
assurance  passed  his  arm  round  her  waist.  He  could  not 
say  that  there  was  any  responsive  yielding  to  his  embrace, 
but  he  did  affirm  to  himself  with  new  conviction,  as  he 


374  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

looked  down  upon  the  fair  small  head  at  his  shoulder, 
with  its  lovely  pale-brown  hair  drawn  softly  over  the 
temples,  and  its  glimpse  of  the  matchless  profile  inclined 
beneath — that  it  was  all  right. 

'  He  waited  for  a  long  time,  with  a  joyous  patience,  for 
her  to  speak.  The  mere  fact  that  she  stood  beneath  his 
engirdling  arm,  and  gave  no  thought  to  the  potential  serv 
ants' -eyes  behind  them,  was  enough  for  present  happi 
ness.  He  regarded  the  illimitable  picture  commanded 
from  his  terrace  with  refreshed  eyes  ;  it  was  once  again 
the  finest  view  in  England — and  something  much  more 
than  that  beside. 

At  last,  abruptty,  she  laughed  aloud — a  silvery,  amused 
little  laugh  under  her  breath.  ' '  How  comedy  and  tragedy 
tread  forever  on  each  other's  heels  !  "  she  remarked. 
Her  tone  was  philosophically  gay,  but  upon  reflection  he 
did  not  wholly  like  her  words. 

"  There  was  n't  any  tragedy,"  he  said,  "  and  there 
is  n't  any  comedy." 

She  laughed  again.  "  Oh,  don't  say  that  this  does  n't 
appeal  to  your  sense  of  humour  ! ' '  she  urged,  with  mock 
fervour. 

Thorpe  sighed  in  such  unaffected  depression  at  this, 
that  she  seemed  touched  by  his  mood.  Without  stirring 
from  his  hold,  she  lifted  her  face.  "  Don't  think  I  'm 
hateful,"  she  bade  him,  and  her  eyes  were  very  kind. 
"  There  's  more  truth  in  what  you  've  been  saying  than 
even  you  imagine.  It  really  was  n't  the  money — or  I 
mean  it  might  easily  have  been  the  same  if  there  had 
been  no  money.  But  how  shall  I  explain  it  ?  ^  am  at 
tracted  by  a  big,  bold,  strong  pirate,  jet  us  say,  but  as 
SQQn_as_he  has  carried  me  off — that  is  thje__phraseforjt 

— then  he  straightway  renounces  crime  and  becomes  a  law- 

— • °        ~ —    ......  .    - 

abiding,  peaceful  citizen.     My  buccaneer  transforms  him- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  375 

self,  tinder  my  very^gvegjjflfo  an  aldermanJ^Dg^  voujjay 
there  js  no  coniedv jnjthat— -sindjragedyjoo  ?  '  * 

"  Oh,  put  it  that  way  and  it  's  all  right,"  he  declared, 
after  a  moment's  consideration.  "  I  've  got  as  much  fun 
in  me  as  anybody  else,"  he  went  on,  "  only  your  jokes 
have  a  way  of  raising  blisters  on  me,  somehow.  But 
that  's  all  done  with  now.  That  's  because  I  did  n't 
know  you — was  frightened  of  you.  But  I  aint  scared  any 
more.  Everything  is  different  ! ' ' 

With  a  certain  graciousness  of  lingering  movement,  she 
withdrew  herself  from  his  clasp,  and  faced  him  with  a 
doubtful  smile.  "  Ah,  don't  be  too  sure,"  she  murmured. 

"  Everything  is  different  !  "  he  repeated,  with  confident 
emphasis.  "  Don't  you  see  yourself  it  is  ?  " 

"  You  say  it  is,"  she  replied,  hesitatingly,  "  but  that 
alone  does  n't  make  it  so.  The  assertion  that  life  is  n't 
empty  does  n't  fill  it." 

"  Ah,  but  now  you  will  talk  with  me  about  all  that," 
he  broke  in  triumphantly.  "  We  've  been  standing  off 
with  one  another.  We  '  ve  been  of  no  help  to  each  other. 
But  we  '11  change  that,  now.  We  '11  talk  over  every 
thing  together.  We  '11  make  up  our  minds  exactly  what 
we  want  to  do,  and  then  I  '11  tuck  you  under  my  arm  and 
we  '11  set  out  and  do  it." 

She  smiled  with  kindly  tolerance  for  his  new-born  en 
thusiasm.  "  Don't  count  on  me  for  too  much  wisdom  or 
invention,"  she  warned  him.  "  If  things  are  to  be  done, 
you  are  still  the  one  who  will  have  to  do  them.  But  un 
doubtedly  you  are  at  your  best  when  you  are  doing  things. 
This  really  has  been  no  sort  of  life  for  you,  here." 

He  gathered  her  arm  into  his.  * '  Come  and  show  me 
your  greenhouses,"  he  said,  and  began  walking  toward 
the  end  of  the  terrace.  "  It  '11  turn  out  to  have  been  all 
right  for  me,  this  year  that  I  've  spent  here,"  he  con- 


376  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

tinued,  as  they  strolled  along.  There  was  a  delightful 
consciousness  of  new  intimacy  conveyed  by  the  very  touch 
of  her  arm,  which  filled  his  tone  with  buoyancy.  "  I  've 
been  learning  all  sorts  of  tricks  here,  and  getting  myself 
into  your  ways  of  life.  It  's  all  been  good  training.  Qn 
every  way  I  'm  a  better  man  than  I  was.'^ 

They  had  descended  from  the  terrace  to  a  garden  path, 
and  approached  now  a  long  glass  structure,  through  the 
panes  of  which  masses  of  soft  colour — whites,  yellows, 
pinks,  mauves,  and  strange  dull  reds — were  dimly  per 
ceptible. 

"  The  chrysanthemums  are  not  up  to  much  this  year," 
Edith  observed,  as  they  drew  near  to  the  door  of  this 
house.  "  Collins  did  them  very  badly — as  he  did  most 
other  things.  But  next  year  it  will  be  very  different. 
Gafferson  is  the  best  chrysanthemum  man  in  England. 
That  is  he  in  there  now,  I  think." 

Thorpe  stopped  short,  and  stared  at  her,  the  while  the 
suggestions  stirred  by  the  sound  of  this  name  slowly 
shaped  themselves. 

' '  Gafferson  ?  "  he  asked  her,  with  a  blank  countenance. 

"  My  new  head-gardener,"  she  explained.  "  He  was 
at  Hadlow,  and  after  poor  old  L,ady  Plowden  died — why, 
surely  you  remember  him  there.  You  spoke  about  him — 
you  'd  known  him  somewhere — in  the  West  Indies, 
wasn't  it?" 

He  looked  into  vacancy  with  the  aspect  of  one  stupe 
fied.  "  Did  I  ?  "  he  mumbled  automatically. 

Then,  with  sudden  decision,  he  swung  round  on  the 
gravel.  "  I  've  got  a  kind  of  headache  coming  on,"  he 
said.  "  If  you  don't  mind,  we  won't  go  inside  among  the 
flowers." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THORPE  walked  along,  in  the  remoter  out-of-the-way 
parts  of  the  great  gardens,  as  the  first  shadows  of 
evening  began  to  dull  the  daylight.  For  a  long  time  he 
moved  aimlessly  about,  sick  at  heart  and  benumbed  of 
mind,  in  the  stupid  oppression  of  a  bad  dream. 

There  ran  through  all  his  confused  thoughts  the  ex 
asperating  consciousness  that  it  was  nonsense  to  be  fright 
ened,  or  even  disturbed ;  that,  in  truth,  nothing  whatever 
had  happened.  But  he  could  not  lay  hold  of  it  to  any 
comforting  purpose.  Some  perverse  force  within  him  in 
sisted  on  raising  new  phantoms  in  his  path,  and  directing 
his  reluctant  gaze  to  their  unpleasant  shapes.  Forgotten 
terrors  pushed  themselves  upon  his  recollection.  It  was 
as  if  he  stood  again  in  the  Board  Room,  with  the  telegram 
telling  of  old  Ta vender's  death  in  his  hands,  waiting  to 
hear  the  knock  of  Scotland  Yard  upon  the  door. 

The  coming  of  Gafferson  took  on  a  kind  of  supernatural 
aspect,  when  Thorpe  recalled  its  circumstances.  His  own 
curious  mental  ferment,  which  had  made  this  present  week 
a  period  apart  in  his  life,  had  begun  in  the  very  hour  of 
this  man's  approach  to  the  house.  His  memory  recon 
structed  a  vivid  picture  of  that  approach— of  the  old  ram 
shackle  village  trap,  and  the  boy  and  the  bags  and  the 
yellow  tin  trunk,  and  that  decent,  red-bearded,  plebeian 
figure,  so  commonplace  and  yet  so  elusively  suggestive 
of  something  out  of  the  ordinary.  It  seemed  to  him  now 
that  he  had  at  the  time  discerned  a  certain  fateful  quality 

377 


378  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

in  the  apparition.  And  he  and  his  wife  had  actually  been 
talking  of  old  Kervick  at  the  moment  !  It  was  their  dis 
agreement  over  him  which  had  prevented  her  explaining 
about  the  new  head-gardener.  There  was  an  effect  of  the 
uncanny  in  all  this. 

And  what  did  Gafferson  want  ?  How  much  did  he 
know  ?  The  idea  that  perhaps  old  Kervick  had  found 
him  out,  and  patched  up  with  him  a  scheme  of  blackmail, 
occurred  to  him,  and  in  the  unreal  atmosphere  of  his  mood, 
became  a  thing  of  substance.  With  blackmail,  however, 
one  could  always  deal  ;  it  was  almost  a  relief  to  see  the 
complication  assume  that  guise.  But  if  GafTerson  was 
intent  upon  revenge  and  exposure  instead  ?  With  such 
a  slug-like,  patient,  tenacious  fool,  was  that  not  more 
likely  ? 

Reasonable  arguments  presented  themselves  to  his 
mind  ever  and  again  :  his  wife  had  known  of  Gafferson' s 
work,  and  thought  highly  of  it,  and  had  been  in  a  position 
to  learn  of  his  leaving  Hadlow.  What  more  natural  than 
that  she  should  hasten  to  employ  him  ?  And  what  was 
it,  after  all,  that  Gafferson  could  possibly  know  or  prove  ? 
His  brother-in-law  had  gone  off,  and  got  too  drunk  to  live, 
and  had  died.  What  in  the  name  of  all  that  was  sensible 
had  this  to  do  with  Thorpe  ?  Why  should  it  even  be  sup 
posed  that  Gafferson  associated  Thorpe  with  any  phase  of 
the  business  ?  And  if  he  had  any  notion  of  a  hostile 
movement,  why  should  he  have  delayed  action  so  long  ? 
Why  indeed  ! 

Reassurance  did  not  come  to  him,  but  at  last  an  im 
pulse  to  definite  action  turned  his  footsteps  toward  the 
cluster  of  greenhouses  in  the  deepening  shadow  of  the 
mansion.  He  would  find  Gafferson,  and  probe  this  busi 
ness  to  the  uttermost.  If  there  was  discoverable  in  the 
man's  manner  or  glance  the  least  evidence  of  a  malevolent 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  379 

Intention — he  would  know  what  to  do.  Ah,  what  was  it 
that  he  would  do  ?  He  could  not  say,  beyond  that  it 
would  be  bad  for  Gafferson.  He  instinctively  clenched 
the  fists  in  the  pockets  of  his  jacket  as  IK  quickened 
his  pace. 

Inside  the  congeries  of  glazed  houses  he  was  somewhat 
at  sea.  It  was  still  light  enough  to  make  one's  way  about 
in  the  passages  between  the  stagings,  but  he  had  no  idea 
of  the  general  plan  of  the  buildings,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  he  frequently  got  back  to  places  he  had  traversed 
before.  There  were  two  or  three  subordinate  gardeners 
in  or  about  the  houses,  but  upon  reflection  he  forbore  to 
question  them.  He  tried  to  assume  an  idly  indifferent  air 
as  he  sauntered  past,  nodding  almost  imperceptible  ac 
knowledgment  of  the  forefingers  they  jerked  upward  in 
salutation. 

He  came  at  last  upon  a  locked  door,  the  key  of  which 
had  been  removed.  The  fact  vaguely  surprised  him,  and 
he  looked  with  awakened  interest  through  the  panes  of 
this  door.  The  air  inside  seemed  slightly  thickened — 
and  then  his  eye  caught  the  flicker  of  a  flame,  straight 
ahead.  It  was  nothing  but  the  fumigation  of  a  house  ; 
the  burning  spirits  in  the  lamp  underneath  the  brazier 
were  filling  the  structure  with  vapours  fatal  to  all  insect 
life.  In  two  or  three  hours  the  men  would  come  and  open 
the  doors  and  windows  and  ventilate  the  place.  The 
operation  was  quite  familiar  to  him  ;  it  had  indeed  inter 
ested  him  more  when  he  first  saw  it  done  than  had  any 
thing  else  connected  with  the  greenhouses. 

His  abstracted  gaze  happened  to  take  note  of  the  fact 
that  the  door-key  was  hanging  on  a  nail  overhead,  and 
then  suddenly  this  seemed  to  be  related  to  something  else 
in  his  thoughts — some  obscure  impression  or  memory 
which  evaded  him.  Continuing  to  look  at  the  key,  a  cer- 


380  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

tain  recollection  all  at  once  assumed  great  definiteness  in 
his  mind  :  it  came  to  him  that  the  labels  on  this  patent 
fumigator  they  were  using  warned  people  against  expos 
ing  themselves  to  its  fumes  more  than  was  absolutely 
necessary.  That  meant,  of  course,  that  their  full  lorce 
would  kill  a  human  being.  It  was  very  interesting.  He 
looked  through  the  glass  again,  but  could  not  see  that 
the  air  was  any  thicker.  The  lamp  still  burned  brightly. 

He  turned  away,  and  beheld  a  man,  in  an  old  cap  and 
apron,  at  the  further  end  of  the  palm-house  he  was  in, 
doing  something  to  a  plant.  Thorpe  noted  the  fact  that 
he  felt  no  surprise  in  seeing  that  it  was  Gafferson.  Some 
how  the  sight  of  the  key,  and  of  the  poison-spreading 
flame  inside  the  locked  door,  seemed  to  have  prepared 
him  for  the  spectacle  of  Gafferson  close  at  hand/  He 
moved  forward  slowly  toward  the  head-gardener,  and 
luminous  plans  rose^m  his  mind,  ready-made  at  each  step. 
He  c^ul^trangle_this  annoying  Fool7or"¥m6th"er"him^  into 
non-resisting  insensibility ,  an3TtHe£rput  him  inside  tnat 
death-house,  and  let  it  be  supposed  that  he  had  been 
asphyxiated  by  accident.  The  men  when  they  came 
back  would  find  him  there.  But  ah  !  they  would  know 
that  they  had  not  left  him  there  ;  they  would  have  seen 
him  outside,  no  doubt,  after  the  fire  had  been  lighted. 
Well,  the  key  could  be  left  in  the  unlocked  door.  Then  it 
could  be  supposed  that  he  had  rashly  entered,  and  been 
overcome  by  the  vapours.  He  approached  the  man 
silently,  his  brain  arranging  the  details  of  the  deed  with 
calm  celerity. 

Then  some  objections  to  the  plan  rose  up  before  him  : 
they  dealt  almost  exclusively  with  the  social  nuisance 
the  thing  would  entail.  There  was  to  be  a  house-party, 
with  that  Duke  and  Duchess  in  it,  of  whom  his  wife  taiKed 
so  much,  and  it  would  be  a  miserable  kind  of  bore  to  have 


THE   MARKET-PLACB  381 

a  suffocated  gardener  forced  upon  them  as  a  principal 
topic  of  conversation.  Of  course,  too,  it  would  more  or 
less  throw  the  whole  household  into  confusion.  And  its 
effect  upon  his  wife  ! — the  progress  of  his  thoughts  was 
checked  abruptly  by  this  suggestion.  A  vision  of  the 
shock  such  a  catastrophe  might  involve  to  her — or  at  the 
best,  of  the  gross  unpleasantness  she  would  find  in  it — 
flashed  over  his  mind,  and  then  yielded  to  a  softening, 
radiant  consciousness  of  how  much  this  meant  to  him.  It 
seemed  to  efface  everything  else  upon  the  instant.  A 
profoundly  tender  desire  for  her  happiness  was  in  com 
plete  possession.  Already  the  notion  of  doing  anything 
to  wound  or  grieve  her  appeared  incredible  to  him. 

"  Well,  Gafferson,"  he  heard  himself  saying,  in  one  of 
the  more  reserved  tones  of  his  patriarchal  manner.  He 
had  halted  close  to  the  inattentive  man,  and  stood  looking 
down  upon  him.  His  glance  was  at  once  tolerant  and 
watchful. 

Gafferson  slowly  rose  from  his  slouching  posture,  sur 
veyed  the  other  while  his  faculties  in  leisurely  fashion 
worked  out  the  problem  of  recognition,  and  then  raised 
his  finger  to  his  cap-brim.  "  Good-evening,  sir,"  he 
said. 

This  gesture  of  deference  was  eloquently  convincing. 
Thorpe,  after  an  instant's  alert  scrutiny,  smiled  upon 
him.  "  I  was  glad  to  hear  that  you  had  come  to  us,"  he 
said  with  benevolent  affability.  "  We  shall  expect  great 
things  of  a  man  of  your  reputation." 

"  It  '11  be  a  fair  comfort,  sir,"  the  other  replied,  "  to 
be  in  a  place  where  what  one  does  is  appreciated.  What 
use  is  it  to  succeed  in  hybridizing  a  Hippeastrum  procera 
with  a  Pancratium  Amancaes,  after  over  six  hundred 
attempts  in  ten  years,  and  then  spend  three  years  a-hand- 
nursing  the  seedlings,  and  then  your  master  won't  take 


3*82  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

enough  interest  in  the  thing  to  pay  your  fare  up  to  Lon 
don  to  the  exhibition  with  'em  ?  That 's  what  'ud  break 
any  man's  heart." 

"  Quite  true,"  Thorpe  assented,  with  patrician  kindli 
ness.  "  You  need  fear  nothing  of  that  sort  here,  Gaffer- 
son.  We  give  you  a  free  hand.  Whatever  you  want, 
you  have  only  to  let  us  know.  And  you  can't  do  things 
too  well  to  please  us." 

' '  Thank  you,  sir, ' '  said  Gafferson,  and  really,  as  Thorpe 
thought  about  it,  the  interview  seemed  at  an  end. 

The  master  turned  upon  his  heel,  with  a  brief,  oblique 
nod  over  his  shoulder,  and  made  his  way  out  into  the  open 
air.  Here,  as  he  walked,  he  drew  a  succession  of  long 
consolatory  breaths.  It  was  almost  as  if  he  had  emerged 
from  the  lethal  presence  of  the  fumigator  itself.  He  took 
the  largest  cigar  from  his  case,  lighted  it,  and  sighed 
smoke-laden  new  relief  as  he  strolled  back  toward  the 
terrace. 

But  a  few  minutes  before  he  had  been  struggling  help 
lessly  in  the  coils  of  an  evil  nightmare.  These  terrors 
seemed  infinitely  far  behind  him  now.  He  gave  an  in 
different  parting  glance  backward  at  them,  as  one  might 
over  his  after-breakfast  cigar  at  the  confused  alarms  of 
an  early  awakening  hours  before.  There  was  nothing 
worth  remembering — only  the  shapeless  and  foolish  bur 
den  of  a  bad  dream. 

The  assurance  rose  within  him  that  he  was  not  to  have 
any  more  such  trouble.  With  a  singular  clearness  of 
mental  vision  he  perceived  that  the  part  of  him  which 
brought  bad  dreams  had  been  sloughed  off,  like  a  serpent's 
skin.  There  had^been^two^Thprpes,  and  ongjofjbhem — 
the^Thnrrjo^w^n  fragl  aJwg.y^been^jgjn^nfi^J^jrofit  by 
knavery,  and  at  last  in  a  splendid  coup  as  a  master  thief 
had  stolen  nearly  a  million,  and  would  have  shrunk  not  at 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  383 


all  from  adding  murder  to  the  rest,  to  protect  that  plunder 
—  this  vicious  Thorpe  had  gone  away  altogether.     There 
was  no  longer  a  place  for  him  in  life  ;  he  would  never  be 
seen  again  by  mortal  eye.     .     .     .     There  remained  only 
the  good  Thorpe,  the  pleasant,  well-intentioned  opulent 
gentleman  ;  the  excellent  citizen  ;  the  beneficent  master,  \ 
to  whom,  even  Gafferson  like  the  others,  touched  a  re-  j 
spectful  forelock. 

It  passed  in  the  procession  of  his  reverie  as  a  kind  of 
triumph  of  virtue  that  the  good  Thorpe  retained  the  for 
tune  which  the  bad  Thorpe  had  stolen.  It  was  in  all 
senses  a  fortunate  fact,  because  now  it  would  be  put  to 
worthy  uses.  Considering  that  he  had  but  dimly  drifted 
about  heretofore  on  the  outskirts  of  the  altruistic  impulse, 
it  was  surprisingly  plain  to  him  now  that  he  intended  to 
be  a  philanthropist.  Even  as  he  mentioned  the  word  to 
himself,  the  possibilities  suggested  by  it  expanded  in  his 
thoughts.  His  old  dormant,  formless  lust  for  power  stirred 
again  in  his  pulses.  What  other  phase  of  power  carried 
with  it  such  rewards,  such  gratitudes,  such  humble  sub 
servience  on  all  sides  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  —  as 
that  exercised  by  the  intelligently  munificent  philan 
thropist  ? 

Intelligence  !  that  was  the  note  of  it  all.  Many  rich 
people  dabbled  at  the  giving  of  money,  but  they  did  it  so 
stupidly,  in  such  a  slip-shod  fashion,  that  they  got  no 
credit  for  it.  Kven  millionaires  more  or  less  in  public 
life,  great  newspaper-owners,  great  brewer-peers,  and  the 
like,  men  who  should  know  how  to  do  things  well,  gave 
huge  sums  in  bulk  for  public  charities,  such  as  the  hous 
ing  of  the  poor,  and  yet  contrived  somehow  to  let  the 
kudos  that  should  have  been  theirs  evaporate.  He  would 
make  no  such  mistake  as  that. 

It  was  easy  enough  to  see  wherein  they  erred.     They 


384  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

gave  superciliously,  handing  down  their  alms  from  a  top 
lofty  altitude  of  Tory  superiority,  and  the  Radicals  down 
below  sniffed  or  growled  even  while  they  grudgingly  took 
these  gifts — that  was  all  nonsense.  These  aristocratic  or 
tuft-hunting  philanthropists  were  the  veriest  duffers. 
They  laid  out  millions  of  pounds  in  the  vain  attempt  to 
secure  what  might  easily  be  had  for  mere  thousands,  if 
they  went  sensibly  to  work.  Their  vast  benefactions 
yielded  them  at  the  most  bare  thanks,  or  more  often  no 
thanks  at  all,  because  they  lacked  the  wit  to  lay  aside  cer 
tain  little  trivial  but  annoying  pretensions,  and  waive  a 
few  empty  prejudices.  They  went  on,  year  after  year, 
tossing  their  fortunes  into  a  sink  of  contemptuous  ingrati 
tude,  wondering  feebly  why  they  were  not  beloved  in  re 
turn.  It  was  because  they  were  fools.  They  could  not, 
or  they  would  not,  understand  the  people  they  sought  to 
manipulate. 

What  could  not  a  man  of  real  brain,  of  real  breadth 
and  energy  and  force  of  character,  do  in  London  with  two 
hundred  thousand  pounds  ?  Why,  he  could  make  him 
self  master  of  the  town  !  He  could  break  into  fragments 
the  political  ascendency  of  the  snob,  ' '  semi-detached  ' ' 
villa  classes,  in  half  the  Parliamentary  divisions  they  now 
controlled.  He  could  reverse  the  partisan  complexion  of 
the  Metropolitan  delegation,  and  lead  to  Westminster  a 
party  of  his  own,  a  solid  phalanx  of  disciplined  men, 
standing  for  the  implacable  Democracy  of  reawakened 
London.  With  such  a  backing,  he  could  coerce  ministries 
at  will,  and  remake  the  politics  of  England.  The  rdle  of 
Great  Oliver  himself  was  not  too  hopelessly  beyond  the 
scope  of  such  a  vision. 

Thorpe  threw  his  cigar-end  aside,  and  then  noted  that 
it  was  almost  dark.  He  strode  up  to  the  terrace  two  steps 
at  a  time,  and  swung  along  its  length  with  a  vigour  and 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  385 

exhilaration  of  movement  he  had  not  known,  it  seemed 
to  him,  for  years.  He  felt  the  excitement  of  a  new  in 
centive  bubbling  in  his  veins. 

' '  Her  Ladyship  is  in  her  sitting-room,  sir, ' '  a  domestic 
replied  to  his  enquiry  in  the  hall.  The  title  arrested  his 
attention  from  some  fresh  point  of  view,  and  he  pondered 
it,  as  he  made  his  way  along  the  corridor,  and  knocked  at 
a  door.  At  the  sound  of  a  voice  he  pushed  open  the  door, 
and  went  in. 

Lady  Cressage,  looking  up,  noted,  with  aroused  interest, 
a  marked  change  in  his  carriage.  He  stood  aggressively 
erect,  his  big  shoulders  squared,  and  his  head  held  high. 
On  his  massive  face  there  was  the  smile,  at  once  buoyant 
and  contained,  of  a  strong  man  satisfied  with  himself. 

Something  impelled  her  to  rise,  and  to  put  a  certain 
wistfulness  of  enquiry  into  her  answering  smile. 

* '  Your  headache  is  better  then  ?  ' '  she  asked  him. 

He  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment,  then  laughed  lightly. 
"Oh — yes,"  he  answered.  Advancing,  he  caught  her 
suddenly,  almost  vehemently,  in  his  arms,  and  covered 
the  face  that  was  perforce  upturned  with  kisses. 

When  she  was  released  from  this  overwhelming  em 
brace,  and  stood  panting  and  flushed,  regarding  him  with 
narrowed,  intent  eyes,  in  which  mystification  was  mel 
lowed  by  the  gleam  of  not-displeased  curiosity,  he  pre 
ferred  a  request  which  completed  her  bewilderment. 

"  Mrs.  Thorpe,"  he  began,  with  significant  delibera 
tion,  but  smiling  with  his  eyes  to  show  the  tenderness 
underlying  his  words — "  would  you  mind  if  we  did  n't 
dress  for  dinner  this  evening,  and  if  we  dined  in  the  little 
breakfast-room — or  here,  for  that  matter — instead  of  the 
big  place  ?  ' ' 

:<  Why,  not  at  all,  if  you  wish  it,"  she  answered  readily 
enough,  but  viewing  him  still  with  a  puzzled  glance. 


386  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

"  I  'm  full  of  new  ideas,"  he  explained,  impulsively  im 
patient  of  the  necessity  to  arrange  a  sequence  among  his 
thoughts.  "  I  see  great  things  ahead.  It  's  all  come  to 
me  in  a  minute,  but  I  could  n't  see  it  clearer  if  I  'd 
thought  it  out  for  a  year.  Perhaps  I  was  thinking  of  it 
all  the  time  and  did  n't  know  it.  But  anyhow,  I  see  my 
way  straight  ahead.  You  don't  know  what  it  means  to 
me  to  have  something  to  do.  It  makes  another  man  of 
me,  just  to  think  about  it.  Another  man  ? — yes,  twenty 
men  !  It  's  a  thing  that  can  be  done,  and  by  God  !  I  'in 
going  to  do  it  !  " 

She  beheld  in  his  face,  as  she  scrutinized  it,  a  stormy 
glow  of  the  man's  native,  coarse,  imperious  virility,  re 
asserting  itself  through  the  mask  of  torpor  which  this 
vacuous  year  had  superimposed.  TheJ.a£gejfe^tures_j£ej:e 
somehow^  grown  lar^er^still ;  they  dominated  the  counte 
nance  as  rough  bold  headlands  dominate  a  shore.  It  was 
thejvfggge  ot_a^conquerbr--of  a  ^man  gathering^wjthin 
himself  tcTexpend  upon_his  feljtows^the^  appetites,  enjr- 
gies,~Tnsensibilities,  audacities  of^a  beast_of  prey.  Her 


glance  'ITtfttered  a  little,  and  almost  quailed,  before  the 
frank  barbarism  of  power  in  the  look  he  bent  upon  her. 
Then  it  came  to  her  that  something  more  was  to  be  read 
in  this  look;  there  was  in  it  a  reservation  of  magnanimity, 
of  protection,  of  entreating  invitation,  for  her  special  self. 
He  might  tear  down  with  his  claws,  and  pull  to  pieces 
and  devour  others  ;  but  his  mate  he  would  shelter  and 
defend  and  love  with  all  his  strength.  An  involuntary 
trembling  thrill  ran  through  her — and  then  she  smiled  up 
at  him. 

"  What  is  it  3^ou  're  going  to  do?  "  she  asked  him, 
mechanically.  Her  mind  roved  far  afield. 

"  RuleJEngland  !  "  he  told  her  with  gravity. 

For  the  moment  there  seemed  to  her  nothing  positively 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  387 

incongruous  in  the  statement.  To  look  at  him,  as  he 
loomed  before  her,  uplifted  by  his  refreshed  and  soaring 
self-confidence,  it  appeared  not  easy  to  say  what  would  be 
impossible  to  him. 

She  laughed,  after  a  fleeting  pause,  with  a  plainer  note 
of  good-fellowship  than  he  had  ever  heard  in  her  voice 
before.  "  Delightful,"  she  said  gayly.  "  But  I  'm  not 
sure  that  I  quite  understand  the — the  precise  connection 
of  morning-dress  and  dinner  in  a  small  room  with  the 
project." 

He  nodded  pleased  comprehension  of  the  spirit  in  which 
she  took  him.  "Just  a  whim,"  he  explained.  "The 
things  I  've  got  in  mind  don't  fit  at  all  with  ceremony, 
and  that  big  barn  of  a  room,  and  men  standing  about. 
What  I  want  more  than  anything  else  is  a  quiet  snug 
little  evening  with  you  alone,  where  I  can  talk  to  you  and 
— and  we  can  be  together  by  ourselves.  You  'd  like  it, 
would  n't  you  ?" 

She  hesitated,  and  there  was  a  novel  confession  of  em 
barrassment  in  her  mantling  colour  and  down-spread 
lashes.  It  had  always  to  his  eyes  been,  from  the  moment 
he  first  beheld  it,  the  most  beautiful  face  in  the  world — 
exquisitely  matchless  in  its  form  and  delicacy  of  line  and 
serene  yet  sensitive  grace.  But  he  had  not  seen  in  it  be 
fore,  or  guessed  that  there  could  come  to  it,  this  crowning 
added  loveliness  of  feminine  confusion. 

"  You  would  like  it,  would  n't  you  ?  "  he  repeated  in  a 
lower,  mere  strenuous  tone. 

She  lifted  her  eyes  slowly,  and  looked,  not  into  his,  but 
over  his  shoulder,  as  in  a  reverie,  half  meditation,  half 
languorous  dreaming.  She  swayed  rather  than  stepped 
toward  him. 

"  I  think,"  she  answered,  in  a  musing  murmur, — "  I 
think  I  shall  like — everything." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THORPE  found  the  Duke  of  Glastonbury  a  much 
more  interesting  person  to  watch  and  to  talk  with, 
both  during  the  dinner  Saturday  evening  and  later,  than 
he  had  anticipated. 

He  was  young,  and  slight  of  frame,  and  not  at  all  im 
posing  in  stature,  but  he  bore  himself  with  a  certain  shy 
courtliness  of  carriage  which  had  a  distinction  of  its  own. 
His  face,  with  its  little  black  moustache  and  large  dark 
eyes,  was  fine  upon  examination,  but  in  some  elusively 
foreign  way.  There  lingered  a  foreign  note,  too,  in  the 
way  he  talked.  His  speech  was  English  enough  to  the 
ear,  it  was  true,  but  it  was  the  considered  English  of  a 
book,  and  its  phrases  had  a  deftness  which  was  hardly 
native.  He  looked,  if  not  a  sad  young  man,  then  one 
conscious  always  of  sufficient  reasons  for  sadness,  but  one 
came,  after  a  time,  to  see  that  the  mood  beneath  was  not 
melancholy.  It  had  even  its  sprightly  side,  which  shone 
out  irregularly  in  his  glance  and  talk,  from  a  sober  mean 
of  amiable  weariness. 

Thorpe  knew  his  extraordinary  story — that  of  a  poor 
tutor,  earning  his  living  in  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  he 
had  a  birthright  of  any  sort,  who  had  been  miraculously 
translated  into  the  heir,  not  only  to  an  ancient  title  but  to 
vast  collateral  wealth.  He  had  been  born  and  reared  in 
France,  and  it  was  there  that  the  heralds  of  this  stupend 
ous  change  in  his  affairs  had  found  him  out.  There  was 

388 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  389 

a  good  deal  more  to  the  story,  including  numerous  un 
savoury  legends  about  people  now  many  years  dead,  and 
it  was  impossible  to  observe  the  young  Duke  and  not 
seem  to  perceive  {signs\)that  he  was  still  nervously  con- 
sciousToT ^theselegends7  ~TEe~stoTy  of  his  wife — a  serene, 
grey-eyed,  rather  silent  young  person,  with  a  pale  face 
of  some  beauty,  and  with  much  purity  and  intellect — was 
strange  enough  to  match.  She  also  had  earned  her  own 
living,  as  a  private  secretary  or  type-writing  girl,  or 
something  of  the  sort,  and  her  husband  had  deliberately 
chosen  her  after  he  had  come  into  his  title.  One  might 
study  her  very  closely,  however,  and  catch  no  hint  that 
these  facts  in  any  degree  disconcerted  her. 

Thorpe  studied  her  a  good  deal,  in  a  furtive  way,  with 
a  curiosity  born  of  his  knowledge  that  the  Duke  had  pre 
ferred  her,  when  he  might  have  married  his  widowed 
cousin,  who  was  now  Thorpe's  own  wife.  How  he  had 
come  to  know  this,  he  could  never  have  told.  He  had 
breathed  it  in,  somehow,  with  the  gossip-laden  atmosphere 
of  that  one  London  season  of  his.  It  was  patent  enough, 
too,  that  his  wife — his  Edith — had  not  only  liked  this 
ducal  youngster  very  much,  but  still  entertained  toward 
him  a  considerable  affection.  She  had  never  dissembled 
this  feeling,  and  it  visibly  informed  her  glance  and  man 
ner  now,  at  her  own  table,  when  she  turned  to  speak  with 
him,  where  he  sat  at  her  right  hand.  Thorpe  had  never 
dreamed  of  thinking  ill  of  his  wife's  friendship,  even  when 
her  indifference  to  what  he  thought  had  been  most  taken 
for  granted.  Now  that  this  was  all  changed,  and  the 
amazing  new  glory  of  a  lover  had  enveloped  him,  he  had 
a  distinct  delight  in  watching  the  myriad  charming  phases 
of  her  kind  manner,  half- sisterly,  half-motherly,  toward 
the  grave-faced  young  man.  It  was  all  a  part  of  the  de 
licious  change  which  these  past  few  days  had  wrought  in 


3QO  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

her,  this  warm  and  supple  softness  of  mien;  of  eye  and 
smile  and  voice. 

But  how  the  Duke,  if  really  he  had  had  a  chance  to 
marry  Kdith,  could  have  taken  the  type-writer  instead, 
baffled  speculation.  Thorpe  gave  more  attention  to  this 
problem,  during  dinner,  than  he  did  to  the  conversation 
of  the  table.  His  exchange  of  sporadic  remarks  with  the 
young  Duchess  beside  him  was  indeed  an  openly  per 
functory  affair,  which  left  him  abundant  leisure  to  con 
template  her  profile  in  silence,  while  she  turned  to  listen 
to  the  general  talk,  of  which  Miss  Madden  and  the 
Hon.  Winifred  Plowden  bore  the  chief  burden.  The  talk 
of  these  ladies  interested  him  but  indifferently,  though 
the  frequent  laughter  suggested  that  it  was  amusing.  He 
looked  from  his  wife  to  the  Duchess  and  back  again,  in 
ever- recurring  surprise  that  the  coronet  had  been  carried 
past  Edith.  And  once  he  looked  a  long  time  at  his  wife 
and  the  Duke,  and  formulated  the  theory  that  she  must 
have  refused  him.  No  doubt  that  was  why  she  bad  been 
sympathetically  fond  of  him  ever  since,  and  was  being  so 
nice  to  him  now.  Yes — clearly  that  was  it.  He  felt  upon 
this  that  he  also  liked  the  Duke  very  much. 

It  was  by  no  means  so  apparent  that  the  Duke  liked 
him.  Both  he  and  his  Duchess,  indeed,  were  scrupulously 
and  even  deferentially  polite,  but  there  was  a  painstaking 
effect  about  it,  which,  seemingly,  they  lacked  the  art  alto 
gether  to  conceal.  It  seemed  to  Thorpe  that  the  other 
guests  unconsciously  took  their  cue  from  this  august 
couple,  and  all  exposed  somewhat  the  effort  their  civility 
to  him  involved.  At  another  time  the  suspicion  of  this 
would  have  stung  him.  He  had  only  to  glance  across  the 
table  to  where  his  wife  sat  now,  and  it  was  all  right. 
What  other  people  thought  of  him — how  other  people 
liked  or  disliked  him — was  of  no  earthly  importance. 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  39! 

Whenever  he  chose  to  exert  himself,  he  could  compel 
from  them  the  behaviour  that  he  desired.     It  was  their 
t  dull  inability  to  read  character  which   prompted  them 
to  regard  him  as  merely  a  rich  outsider  who  had  married 
Edith  Cressage.     He  viewed  with  a  comfortable  tolerance 
this  infirmity  of  theirs.      When  the  time  came,   if  hei 
wanted  to  do  so,  he  could  awaken  them  to  their  delusion  J 
as  by  forked  lightning  and  the  burst  of  thunder.  I 

The  whim  came  to  him,  and  expanded  swiftly  into  a 
determination,  to  contrive  some  intimate  talk  forthwith 
with  the  Duke.  The  young  man  seemed  both  clever  and 
sensible,  and  in  a  way  impressionable  as  well.  Thorpe 
thought  that  he  would  probably  have  some  interesting 
things  to  say,  but  still  more  he  thought  of  him  as  a  likely 
listener.  It  would  be  the  easier  to  detach  him  from  the 
company,  since  the  occasion  was  one  of  studied  informality. 
The  Duke  did  not  go  about  in  society,  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  word,  and  he  would  not  have  come  to  High 
Thorpe  to  meet  a  large  party.  He  was  here  as  a  kinsman 
and  friend  of  his  hostess  for  a  quiet  week  ;  and  the  few 
other  guests  fitted  readily  enough  into  the  picture  of  a 
family  gathering.  The  spirit  of  domesticity  had  indeed 
so  obviously  descended  upon  the  little  group  in  the 
drawing-room,  an  hour  or  so  after  dinner,  that  Thorpe 
felt  it  quite  the  natural  thing  to  put  his  arm  through  that 
of  the  Duke  and  lead  him  off  to  his  personal  smoking- 
room.  He  even  published  his  intention  by  audibly  bid 
ding  the  Hon.  Balder  Plowden  to  remain  with  the  ladies. 

When  the  two  had  seated  themselves  in  soft,  low  easy- 
chairs,  and  the  host  had  noted  with  pleasure  that  his  guest 
had  no  effeminate  qualms  in  the  matter  of  large  rich  cigars, 
a  brief  silence  ensued. 

"  I  am  very  anxious  to  get  your  views  on  a  certain 
subject,"  Thorpe  was  inspired  to  begin,  bluntly  pushing 


392  THE   MARKET-FLAGS 

preliminaries  aside.  "  If  a  man  of  fortune  wishes  to  do 
genuine  good  with  his  money,  here  in  England,  how 
should  he  best  go  about  it  ?  " 

The  Duke  looked  up  at  his  questioner,  with  a  sudden 
flash  of  surprise  on  his  dark,  mobile  face.  He  hesitated 
a  moment,  and  smiled  a  little.  ' '  You  ask  of  me  the  sum 
of  human  wisdom,"  he  said.  "It  is  the  hardest  of  all 
problems  ;  no  one  solves  it." 

Thorpe  nodded  his  big  head  comprehendingly .  '  *  That '  s 
all  the  more  reason  why  it  ought  to  be  solved,"  he  de 
clared,  with  slow  emphasis. 

The  other  expressed  by  look  and  tone  an  augmented 
consciousness  of  the  unexpected.  "  I  did  not  know,"  he 
remarked  cautiously,  "  that  this  was  a  matter  in  which 
you  were  specially  concerned.  It  pleases  me  very  much 
to  hear  it.  Even  if  the  solution  does  not  come,  it  is  well 
to  have  as  many  as  possible  turning  the  problem  over  in 
their  minds. ' ' 

"  Oh,  but  I  'm  going  to  solve  it  !  "  Thorpe  told  him, 
with  round  confidence. 

The  Duke  pulled  contemplatively  at  his  cigar  for  a 

tittle.     "  Do  not  think  me  a  cynic,"  he  began  at  last. 

' '  You  are  a  man  of  affairs  ;    you  have  made  your  own 

way  ;  you  should  be  even  more  free  from  illusions  than  I 

am.     If  you  tell  me  that  these  good  things  can  be  done, 

I  am  the  last  one  to  dispute  you.     But  I  have  seen  near 

at  hand  experiments  of  exceptional  importance,  on  a  very 

grand  scale,  and  the  result  does  not  encourage  me.     I 

^>    y     come  to  doubt_indeed  if  money^has  any^such  power  in* 

"     -?V-tUese^affairs  as  we  thinkTTrias^for  that ^matter7"if  "it  has 

yl.       ajiy  power  at  aTH     The  shifting  of  money  can  always"  dis- 

organize~whatls  going  on  at  the  moment — change  it  about 

and  alter  it  in  many  ways — but  its  effect  isonly  temporary. 

As  soon  as  the  pressure  is  released,  the  human  atoms  re- 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  393 

arrange  themselves  as  they  were  before,  and  the  old  con-  ~ ' 
ditions  return.     I  tnink  <the  only  force  which  really  makes    \ 
any  permanent  difference  is  character — and  yet  about  even 
that  I  am  not  sure.     The  best  man  I  have  ever  known — 
aricf  in  many  respects  the  ablest — devoted  untold  energy 
and  labour,  and  much  money,  too,  to  the  service  of  a  few 
thousand  people  in  Somerset,  on  land  of  his  own,  upon  a 
theory  wonderfully  elaborated  and  worked  out.     Perhaps 
you  have  heard  of  Kmanuel  Torr  and  his  colony,   his 
System?" 

Thorpe  shook  his  head. 

' '  He  had  worked  tremendously  for  years  at  it.     He  fell 
ill  and  went  away — and  in  a  day  all  the  results  of  his 
labours  and  outlay  were  flat  on  the  ground.     The  property 
is  mine  now,  and  it  is  farmed  and  managed  again  in  the 
ordinary  way,  and  really  the  people  there  seem  already  to 
have  forgotten  that  they  had  a  prophet  among  them.     The 
marvelous  character  of  the  man — you  look  in  vain  for  any  / 
sign  of  an  impress  that  it  left  upon  them.     I  never  go 
there.     I  cannot  bear  those  people.     I  have  sometimes/ 
the  feeling  that  if  it  were  feasible  I  should  like  to  oppress/ 
them  in  some  way — to  hurt  them."  -  *'  •  ricm* 

"  Oh  !  *  the  people'  are  hogs,  right  enough,"  Thorpe 
commented  genially,  "  but  they  are  '  the  people,'  and 
they  're  the  only  tools  we  've  got  to  work  with  to  make 
the  world  go  round." 

"  But  if  you  leave  the  world  alone,"  objected  the  Duke, 
"  it  goes  round  of  itself.  And  if  you  don't  leave  it  alone, 
it  goes  round  just  the  same,  without  any  reference  what- 
ever  to  your  exertions.  Some  few  men  are  always  cleverer 
or  noisier  or  more  restless  than  the  others,  and  their 
activity  produces  certain  deviations  and  peculiarities  in 
their  generation.  The  record  of  these — generally  a  very 
faulty  and  foolish  record — we  call  history.  We  say  of 


394  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

these  movements  in  the  past  that  some  of  them  were  good 
and  some  were  bad.  Our  sons  very  likely  will  differ 
totally  from  us  about  which  were  good  and  which  were 
bad  ;  quite  possibly,  in  turn,  their  sons  may  agree  with 
us.  I  do  not  see  that  it  matters.  We  cannot  treat  any 
thing  as  final — except  that  the  world  goes  round.  We 
appear  out  of  the  darkness  at  one  edge  of  it  ;  we  are  carried 
across  and  pitched  off  into  the  darkness  at  the  other  edge 
of  it.  We  are  certain  about  nothing  else." 

"  Except  that  some  of  us  have  to  pay  for  our  ride,  and 
others  don't,"  put  in  Thorpe.  The  tone  in  which  he 
spoke  made  his  meaning  so  clear  that  his  Grace  sat 
up. 

"Ah,  you  think  we  do  not  pay?"  he  queried,  his 
countenance  brightening  with  the  animation  of  debate. 
"  My  dear  sir,  we  pay  more  than  anyone  else.  Our  fares 
are  graduated,  just  as  our  death-duties  are.  No  doubt 
there  are  some  idle  and  stupid,  thick-skinned  rich  fellows, 
who  escape  the  ticket-collector.  But  for  each  of  them 
there  are  a  thousand  idle  poor  fellows  who  do  the  same. 
You,  for  example,  are  a  man  of  large  wealth.  I,  for  my 
sins,  carry  upon  my  back  the  burden  of  a  prodigious  for 
tune.  Could  we  not  go  out  now,  and  walk  down  the  road 
to  your  nearest  village,  and  find  in  the  pub.  there  a  dozen 
day-labourers  happier  than  we  are  ?  Why — it  is  Saturday 
night.  Then  I  will  not  say  a  dozen,  but  as  many  as  the 
tap  will  hold.  It  is  not  the  beer  alone  that  makes  them 
happy.  Do  not  think  that.  It  is  the  ability  to  rest  un 
troubled,  the  sense  that  till  Monday  they  have  no  more 
responsibility  than  a  tree-toad.  Does  the  coming  of  Sun 
day  make  that  difference  to  you  or  to  me  ?  When  night 
comes,  does  it  mean  to  us  that  we  are  to  sleep  off  into 
oblivion  all  we  have  done  that  day,  and  begin  life  afresh 
next  morning  ?  No-o  !  We  are  the  tired  people  ;  the 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  395 

load  is  never  lifted  from  our  backs.  Ah,  do  we  not 
pay  indeed  !  ' ' 

"  Oh-ho  !  "  ejaculated  Thorpe.  He  had  been  listen 
ing  with  growing  astonishment  to  the  other's  confession. 
He  was  still  surprised  as  he  spoke,  but  a  note  of  satis 
faction  mounted  into  his  voice  as  he  went  on.  * '  You  are 
unhappy,  too  !  You  are  a  young  man,  in  excellent 
health  ;  you  have  the  wife  you  want ;  you  understand 
good  tobacco  ;  you  have  a  son.  That  is  a  great  deal — but 
my  God  !  think  what  else  you  've  got.  You  're  the  Duke 
of  Glastonbury — one  of  the  oldest  titles  in  England. 
You  're  one  of  the  richest  men  in  the  country — the  richest 
in  the  old  peerage,  at  any  rate,  I  'm  told.  And  you  're 
not  happy  !  " 

The  other  smiled.  ' '  Ah,  the  terms  and  forms  survive, ' ' 
he  said,  with  a  kind  of  pedagogic  affability,  "  after  the 
substance  has  disappeared.  The  nobleman,  the  prince, 
was  a  great  person  in  the  times  when  he  monopolized 
wealth.  It  enabled  him  to  monopolize  almost  everything 
else  that  was  pleasant  or  superb.  He  had  the  arts  and 
the  books  and  the  musicians  and  the  silks  and  velvets, 
and  the  bath-tubs — everything  that  made  existence  gor 
geous — all  to  himself.  He  had  war  to  amuse  himself 
with,  and  the  seven  deadly  sins.  The  barriers  are  down 
now.  Everything  which  used  to  be  exclusively  the  noble 
man's  is  now  within  everybody's  reach,  including  the 
sins.  And  it  is  not  only  that  others  have  levelled  up  to 
him  ;  they  have  levelled  him  down.  He  cannot  dress 
now  more  expensively  than  other  people.  Gambling  used 
to  be  recognized  as  one  of  his  normal  relaxations,  but  now, 
the  higher  his  rank,  the  more  sharply  he  is  scolded  for  it. 
Naturally  he  does  not  know  what  to  do  with  himseh.  As 
an  institution,  he  descends  from  a  period  when  the  only 
imaginable  use  for  wealth  was  to  be  magnificent  with  it. 


39^  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

But  now  in  this  business  age,  where  the  recognized  use 
of  wealth  is  to  make  more  wealth,  he  is  so  much  out  of 
place  that  he  has  even  forgotten  how  to  be  magnificent. 
There  are  some  illustrated  articles  in  one  of  the  maga 
zines,  giving  photographs  of  the  great  historic  country- 
houses  of  England.  You  should  see  the  pictures  of  the 
interiors.  The  furniture  and  decorations  are  precisely 
what  a  Brixton  dressmaker  would  buy,  if  she  suddenly 
came  into  some  money. ' ' 

"  All  the  same,"  Thorpe  stuck  to  his  point,  "  you  are 
not  happy." 

The  Duke  frowned  faintly,  as  if  at  the  other's  per 
sistency.  Then  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  answered 
in  a  lighter  tone.  "  It  hardly  amounts  to  that,  I  think. 
I  confess  that  there  are  alleviations  to  my  lot.  In  the 
opinion  of  the  world  I  am  one  of  its  most  fortunate  citizens 
— and  it  is  not  for  me  to  say  that  the  world  is  altogether 
wrong.  The  chief  point  is — I  don't  know  if  you  will 
quite  follow  me — there  are  limits  to  what  position  and  for 
tune  can  give  a  man.  And  so  easily  they  may  deprive 
him  of  pleasures  which  poorer  men  enjoy  !  I  may  be 
wrong,  but  it  seems  impossible  to  me  that  any  rich  man 
who  has  acres  of  gardens  and  vineries  and  glass  can  get 
up  the  same  affection  for  it  all  that  the  cottager  will  have 
for  his  little  flower-plot,  that  he  tends  with  his  own  hands. 
One  seems  outside  the  realities  of  life — a  mere  spectator 
at  the  show." 

* '  Ah,  but  why  not  do  things  ?  ' '  Thorpe  demanded  of 
him.  "  Why  merely  stand,  as  you  say,  and  look  on  ?  " 

The  other  leant  his  head  back  again.  "  Pray  what  do 
you  recommend  ?  "  he  asked  almost  listlessly. 

:<  Why — politics,  for  example." 

The  Duke  nodded,  with  an  air  of  according  to  the  sug 
gestion  a  certain  respect.  ' '  Unhappily  I  am  too  much  of 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  397 

a  foreigner,"  he  commented.  "  I  know  Englishmen  and 
their  affairs  too  imperfectly.  Sometime — perhaps." 

"  And  philanthropic  work — you  don't  care  about  that," 
pursued  the  other. 

"  Oh — we  go  not  so  far  as  that,"  said  his  Grace,  with 
a  deprecatory  wave  of  the  hands.  "  My  wife  finds  many 
interests  in  it,  only  she  would  not  like  to  have  you  call  it 
philanthropical.  She  is  London-born,  and  it  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  her  to  be  of  assistance  to  poorer  young  women 
in  London,  who  have  so  little  done  for  them  by  the  com 
munity,  and  can  do  so  little  for  themselves.  I  am  much 
less  skeptical  about  that  particular  work,  I  may  tell  you, 
than  about  philanthropy  in  general.  In  fact,  I  am  quite 
clear  that  it  is  doing  good.  At  least  it  is  doing  a  kind 
ness,  and  that  is  a  pleasant  occupation.  We  are  really 
not  so  idle  as  one  might  think.  We  work  at  it  a  good 
deal,  my  wife  and  I." 

"  So  am  I  London-born,"  Thorpe  remarked,  with  a 
certain  irrelevancy.  After  a  moment's  pause  he  turned  a 
sharply  enquiring  glance  upon  his  guest.  "  This  thing 
that  you  're  doing  in  London — does  it  give  you  any  (  pull ' 
there?" 

"  Pull  ?  "  repeated  the  other  helplessly. 

"  If  there  was  something  you  wanted  the  people  01 
London  to  do,  would  they  do  it  for  you  because  of  what 
yon  've  been  doing  for  them — or  for  their  girls  ?  " 

The  Duke  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment.  "  But  it 
is  n't  conceivable  that  I  should  want  London  to  do  any 
thing—unless  it  might  be  to  consume  its  own  smoke,"  he 
observed. 

"  Quite  so  !  "  said  Thorpe,  rising  bulkily  to  his  feet,  but 
signifying  by  a  gesture  that  his  companion  was  to  remain 
seated.  He  puffed  at  his  cigar  till  its  tip  gleamed  angrily 
through  the  smoke  about  him,  and  moved  a  few  steps  with 


398  THE   MARKET-PLACE 

hi*  hands  in  his  pockets.  "  That  is  what  I  wanted  to  get 
at.  Now  I  'm  London-born,  I  've  got  the  town  in  my 
blood.  The  Thorpes  have  been  booksellers  there  for 
generations.  The  old  name  is  over  the  old  shop  still.  I 
think  I  know  what  Londoners  are  like  ;  I  ought  to.  It 's 
my  belief  that  they  don't  want  gifts.  They  '11  take  'em, 
but  it  is  n't  what  they  want.  They  're  a  trading  people 
— one  of  the  oldest  in  the  world.  Commercial  traditions, 
the  merchant's  pride — these  are  bred  in  their  bones.  They 
don't  want  something  for  nothing.  They  like  an  honest 
bargain — fair  on  both  sides.  *  You  help  me  and  I  '11  help 
you.'  And  it 's  the  only  way  you  can  do  anything  worth 
doing." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Duke,  passively. 

Thorpe  halted,  and  still  with  the  cigar  between  his 
teeth,  looked  down  at  him. 

"  I  can  go  into  London,  and  study  out  the  things  that 
are  to  be  done — that  need  to  be  done — and  divide  these 
into  two  parts,  those  that  belong  to  private  enterprise  and 
those  that  ought  to  be  done  publicly.  And  I  can  say  to 
Londoners — not  in  so  many  words,  mind  you,  but  in  a  way 
the  sharper  ones  will  understand  :  *  Here,  you  fellows. 
I  '11  begin  doing  out  of  my  own  pocket  one  set  of  these 
things,  and  you  in  turn  must  put  yourselves  at  my  back, 
and  stand  by  me,  and  put  me  in  a  position  where  I  can 
make  the  Government  do  this  other  set  of  things.' 
That  will  appeal  to  them.  A  poor  man  could  n't  lead 
them  any  distance,  because  he  could  always  be  killed  by 
the  cry  that  he  was  filling  his  pockets.  They  will  believe 
in  a  man  whose  ambition  is  to  win  an  earldom  and  five 
thousand  a  year  out  of  politics,  but  they  will  stone  to 
death  the  man  who  merely  tries  to  get  a  few  hundreds  a 
year  out  of  it  for  his  wife  and  children.  And  a  man  like 
you  can't  do  anything  in  London,  because  they  can't  see 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  399 

that  there  's  anything  you  want  in  return — and  besides, 
in  their  hearts,  they  don't  like  your  class.  Don't  forget 
it  !  This  is  the  city  that  chopped  off  the  king's  head  !  " 

"  Ah,  but  this  is  also  the  city,"  retorted  the  other,  with 
placid  pleasure  in  his  argument,  ' '  which  decked  itself  in 
banners  and  ribbons  to  welcome  back  the  son  of  that  same 
king.  And  if  you  think  of  it,  he  was  rather  a  quaint 
thing  in  sons,  too." 

"  It  was  the  women  did  that,"  Thorpe  affirmed  with 
readiness.  "  They  get  their  own  way  once  in  a  while, 
when  the  men  are  tired  out,  and  they  have  their  little 
spell  of  nonsense  and  monkey-shines,  but  it  never  lasts 
long.  Charles  II.  does  n't  matter  at  all — but  take  my 
word  for  it,  his  father  matters  a  great  deal.  There  was  a 
Thorpe  among  the  judges  who  voted  to  behead  him.  I 
am  descended  in  a  straight  line  from  him." 

His  Grace  shrugged  his  slight  shoulders  again.  "  It 
happens  that  my  ancestors  had  extremely  large  facilities 
for  doing  unpleasant  things,  and,  God  knows,  they  did 
them — but  I  don't  quite  see  what  that  goes  to  prove, 
now." 

1 '  No,  you  don't  grasp  the  idea, ' '  said  Thorpe,  resignedly. 
After  a  moment's  pause  he  took  the  cigar  from  his  lips, 
and  straightened  himself.  "  All  the  same,"  he  declared 
roundly,  "  I  am  going  to  do  the  trick.  London  has 
been  waiting  for  an  organizer — a  leader — for  a  hundred 
years.  The  right  kind  of  a  man,  going  the  right  way  to 
work,  can  stand  London  on  its  head,  as  surely  as  I  can 
burn  this  cigar.  And  I  'm  going  to  have  a  try  at  it." 

"  It  is  very  interesting,"  remarked  the  Duke,  with 
vagueness.  ' '  But — are  the  ladies  waiting  for  us  ?  And 
if  so,  are  n't  we  keeping  them  up  unconscionably  ?  " 

As  if  in  comment  upon  his  words,  there  was  the  sound 
of  a  faint  rap  at  the  door.  Then  it  opened,  and  through 


4OO  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

the  dense  blue  haze  of  the  room  they  saw  some  shadowed 
forms  softly  indistinct  save  where  the  light  from  the  ceil 
ing  outside  shone  down  upon  a  group  of  coiffured  heads. 
A  noise  of  mingled  coughing  and  laughter  specifically 
completed  the  introduction. 

"  Oh,  I  'm — it  's  unendurable  in  there,"  spoke  the 
voice  of  the  hostess.  "  We  were  coming  in  to  smoke  with 
you,"  she  called  out  through  the  cloud,  "since  you 
would  n't  stop  with  us." 

"  Come  along  !  "  answered  Thorpe,  cheerily.  He 
strode  to  the  end  of  the  room  and  raised  a  window. 
From  the  same  corner  he  turned  on  some  added  lights. 

Under  this  more  effective  illumination,  the  lady  of  the 
house  advanced,  with  Miss  Madden  and  the  Hon.  Wini 
fred  close  behind  her.  "  Frank  has  gone  to  bed,"  she 
explained  to  the  Duke,  who  had  risen.  Then  she  turned 
to  her  husband  a  bright-eyed  glance  :  "  You  don't  mind 
— our  coming  ?  ' '  she  asked. 

"  Mind  !  "  he  called  out,  with  robust  impressiveness. 
"  Mind  !  "  As  if  to  complete  the  expression  of  his  mean 
ing,  he  threw  his  arm  loosely  about  her,  where  she  stood, 
and  brought  her  to  his  side.  They  remained  standing 
thus,  before  the  fireplace,  after  the  others  were  all  seated. 

' '  Mr.  Thorpe  has  been  outlining  to  me  the  most  wonder 
ful  plans,"  said  the  Duke,  looking  from  one  face  to  an 
other,  with  a  reserved  smile.  ' '  It  seems  that  philanthropy 
fails  unless  it  is  combined  with  very  advanced  politics.  It 
is  a  new  idea  to  me — but  he  certainly  states  it  with  vigour. 
Do  you  understand  it,  Edith  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh,  perfectly,"  replied  the  wife,  smilingly.  "  I  am 
his  first  convert.  Behold  in  me  the  original  disciple. ' ' 

' '  The  worst  of  that  is, ' '  commented  Thorpe,  with 
radiant  joviality,  "  she  would  subscribe  to  any  other  new 
doctrine  of  mine  just  as  readily."  He  tightened  the  arm 


THE   MARKET-PLACE  40 1 

encircling  her  by  a  perceptible  trifle.     "  Would  n't  you, 
sweetheart  ?  ' '  he  demanded. 

She  seemed  in  nowise  embarrassed  by  these  overt  en 
dearments.  There  was  indeed  the  dimmest  suggestion  in 
her  face  and  voice  of  a  responsive  mood.  "  Really,"  she 
began,  with  a  soft  glance,  half-deprecation,  half-pride, 
bent  upon  the  others,  and  with  thoughtful  deliberation, 
— "  really  the  important  thing  is  that  he  should  pursue 
some  object — have  in  view  something  that  he  is  deter 
mined  to  master.  Without  that,  he  is  not  contented — not 
at  his  best.  He_  should  have  been  a  soldier.  He  has  a 
passion  for  battle  in  his  blood.  And  now  that  he  sees 
something  he  is  eager  to  do — I  am  very  glad.  It  makes 
it  none  the  less  acceptable  that  good  is  to  come  from  it." 

"  I  still  maintain,"  said  Miss  Madden,  interpolating  her 
words  through  the  task  of  lighting  a  cigarette,  and  con 
triving  for  them  an  effect  of  drollery  which  appealed  to 
iThorpe  most  of  all — "  I  shall  always  insist,  just  the  samef  ] 
(that  crime  was  his  true  vocation." 


THE  GROSSET  &  DUMA- 
ILLUSTRATED  EDITIONS 
OF  FAMOUS  BOOKS  a  *  a 


.:••'•     :---;.•         ,.-•        • :  •      '."'      '      .  ~  -.-     '    _  :  -  •     - 

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UNCLE  TOM'S  CABIN— By  Bmact 


PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS— Bj  Jofe»  Bora. 
THE  WIDE,  WIDE  WORLD— %  Sm  H 


THE  LITTLE  MINISTER  (M«de  A^M  £dmam> 
— Br  J.  M. 


??,:SZ    TAILS -IT   I::-  .-.    i-    ?:- 


r.:-_.    :•_::,.::-     ,     ::.--::<     :': 

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SELF-RAISED"   f  T^*~^»«  fa*^- 1      •    ,    .ij 

af  rsot  r«  sat  »«ia.  mia  HuKackn 


THE  FIRST  VIOUK—Br  Joric  FoiopL 

.-.   t.'  t   M  '  :  ?.     :  '    :  U     :  :  :  -j-' 


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BREWSTER'S    MILLIONS 

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CASTLE  CRANEYCROW.       THE  SHERRODS. 


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tand  the  Solace  of  Books 

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